


Butterfly

by A_Million_Regrets



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood, Bottom Dan, Bottoming from the Top, Caring Phil, Dan with wings, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Forbidden Love, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Long ass fic, M/M, Oblivious Phil, Slow Burn, Smut, Top Phil, Violence, Writer Phil, a little bit of action, character death but it's not dan and Phil so who cares, cute Dan, really adorable Dan, smitten Dan, starts out super fluffy but BEWARE ANGST AHEAD, super cute relationship i promise, very powerful Dan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:02:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 172,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23560510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Million_Regrets/pseuds/A_Million_Regrets
Summary: Phil Lester, a lonely writer, finds a dying boy with beautiful black wings on a cold, rainy night in a dingy alleyway. He recognizes the boy as one of the winged men hated by human society. They are considered to be wild, ferocious beasts, but Phil's sympathy forces him to help the boy.What happens when the boy, considered to be a wild beast, gets too attached and follows him home with an innocent, dimpled smile?(Updated every Thursday)
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 434
Kudos: 301





	1. Black Wings

Phil's numb legs carried him down the dimly lit street, his feet freezing-cold inside his tattered shoes. The cold night air slashed ruthlessly against his smooth skin, and he lifted his shaking hands to rub his sides, puffing silvery-white smoke out of his lips. An uncanny and hair-raising feeling of being watched sizzled beneath his pale white skin, and he trembled, rushing down the street without looking back. His gaze darted back and forth hastily, searching the immediate vicinage for any danger or unseen threats.

“Come on, hurry,” Louise urged anxiously in a low, hushed tone, stumbling to the deserted road, the sharp clicks of her expensive heels ringing in his ears like the ticks of a clock in a quiet room. Her eyes were wide and red-rimmed as she examined the area like a mad woman, twitching and quivering vehemently. “This way.”

Phil let out a small, frightened exhale, crossing the street in a hurry, his pattering footsteps echoing in the eerie silence of the empty lane like rocks falling from a height. Thick, rumbling clouds occupied every inch of the inky-black sky, looming over them like a disaster waiting to happen. The desolate street was devoid of the commotion and hustle-bustle of daytime, abandoned by the people who were scared of the night.

“Hurry, Phil,” Louise panted out nervously, her teeth clattering in the chilly air, her knee-length silk dress clinging to her skin.

Phil jogged silently through the unoccupied footpath, letting out huffing breaths that whistled in his own ears. The concrete beneath his shoes was cracked and chipped at odd places. The street lamps, battered and bent at awkward angles, poured a long beam of yellowish-orange light onto the road. Old and faded graffiti covered the rolling shutters of shops, providing a unique essence to the lifeless street. Phil shivered as he hurried past a graffiti of shiny, black wings, standing out glaringly in the glow of a distorted street lamp.

“We shouldn't have gone to the party,” Louise whispered regretfully, looking around the empty lane with worried, fear-filled eyes. “We're going to be killed.”

“We're not going to be killed, Louise. Don't be overdramatic, please. Hunters are patrolling the area,” Phil murmured soothingly. “Besides, winged people don't come out before midnight. It's not midnight yet. It's-” Phil peered timidly into his wristwatch and paled, “-oh fuck, it's 11:55 already.” Releasing a shaky breath, he continued, “It's fine. They won't hurt us. It's illegal.”

“They're beasts, Phil,” Louise explained eagerly, coiling her gentle fingers around his wrist and pulling him towards another bleak road. “Come on.” Phil calmed his rapidly thundering heart and crossed the road quietly. “They don't care about what is legal or illegal.” Louise let go of his hand swiftly and ushered him nervously into a dirty alleyway. “They're fucking parasites. I wish our government would just bomb them and kill them all. We deserve to live in peace.”

The barely visible vein on Phil's neck twitched, and a twinge of guilt shot through his chest. “Don't say that,” he warned sorrowfully. “They deserve to live as much as we do. Most of them don't even hurt humans. I don't understand the fear.” Phil carded his fingers through his black hair. “Or the hate, to be honest.”

“They drink human blood, Phil!” Louise snapped in outrage, tripping over a plastic bag near the garbage bins stashed against a wall. “They kill little children!”

“They do not!” Phil defended. “That's a rumour!”

The alley was dark and quiet, huge, shabby walls on either side towering over them like trolls. The wind howled sharply, piercing his ears. Plastic cups and wrappers near the garbage bins flew into the air and smashed against the walls, falling to the floor and rolling away noisily in the odd silence. A foul, overpowering stench of blood and vomit wafted out from the grimy corners, and Phil crinkled his nose in disgust. He felt like if he turned his head, he would see bright, red blood smeared across the brick walls.

They stumbled unsteadily out of the alley into another deserted street, looking left and right. “They have no choice, Louise,” Phil concluded solemnly. “They need human blood to survive. It's just the way they are. They can't help it.”

Louise rolled her eyes as they neared a crossroad, letting out a soft sigh, her golden hair bouncing on her bare shoulders. “You're too nice, Phil,” she declared, not unkindly. “However, they are animals. They don't deserve your kindness.”

“Well, that really depends on-”

“ _Shhhh_ ,” Louise shushed him, her earthy green eyes wide and alert as she stopped dead in her tracks. Phil's eyebrows furrowed inquisitively, and he clutched his jacket tighter against his body with benumbed fingers. A small, indistinct sound of fluttering wings floated to his ears, and Phil held his breath in fear.

“Let's go. Quick!” Louise hissed in panic, grasping his hand tightly. They tip-toed across the road, their backs hunched as they scurried over to the other side and hid behind two large garbage bins. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” Louise chanted incessantly under her breath, her hands shaking violently.

“We'll be okay,” Phil assured her, leaning over anxiously to look behind the filthy garbage bin. A flash of black wings caught his eyes, and he lurched back, heart thumping against his chest. “They're here,” he heaved, breaths coming out in short, stilted pants.

“Oh god. Oh fuck, Phil.” Louise's emerald eyes filled with tears, and her glossy red lips quivered. “We shouldn't have gone to the party. We shouldn't have . . . I'm going to die, fuck. Oh Christ,” she stammered and hiccuped, squeezing Phil's hand so tightly that it was cutting off his blood circulation.

“Hey. Hey. Calm down,” Phil compelled urgently, wide-eyed and afraid. “Keep quiet and we'll be fine. Hunters usually patrol this area. They'll come if we call for help.”

“Oh god, help me,” Louise panted, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes squeezed shut as she murmured and prayed, “Please help me.”

Footsteps echoed throughout the grim, vacant street, _thud thud thud_ of stomping feet drumming in his ears like the beats of his pounding heart, increasing in rhythm with every breath. Louise clung to him desperately, and Phil's eyes were wide open as he waited for the inevitable. The night breeze wailed like it was mourning someone's demise, and the smell of blood and death was thick in the frosty air.

An unnerving sound of rustling and something being dragged on the floor sailed to his ears, and he dug his teeth into his lower lip, biting down on it to keep himself quiet.

“This is our first kill tonight,” a voice laughed heartlessly, closer than he would've liked. “It'll be enough for a month.”

Louise made a squeaky noise, tears rolling down her cheeks as they heard the sound of winged men dragging a dead body across the road. A large lump clogged Phil's throat and his hand shot out instinctively to clamp down on Louise's mouth, eyes wide as he murmured in fear, “ _Shhhhh_. Keep quiet.”

Louise trembled violently, her whole body shaking as she stared with wide green eyes. There were two of them, Phil noticed, leaning over to look. Two buff men stood on the other side of the road. They had glistening red eyes and huge black wings tucked behind their backs, glimmering under the streetlights. Their clothes were soiled and smudged with dry blood, fingertips red as though they had dipped their hands into cans of red paint.

However, the dead body was not of a human. It was a pig. Phil let out a breath and shook his head with a smile. He was right. Winged men were not hurting humans after all.

It was the fear that made humans hate winged men. Phil was sure of it. Human beings have always been afraid of things more powerful, things that they can't understand, things that have no explanations. It was the unnecessary fear that made humans disappear from the roads and hide in their homes at nightfall. Fear was the cause for these empty roads and barren streets, not any actual threat from winged men.

“Did you teach that coward a lesson?” The other winged man asked in irritation, grabbing Phil's undivided attention. He had always been fascinated by winged creatures. Fascinated and curious.

“Who, Dan? Yeah, of course.” They laughed and dragged the pig's distorted corpse to the footpath, blood oozing out onto the road and leaving blotches of thick, red liquid everywhere. Bile rose in Phil's throat and he looked away, heaving, taking huge gulps of air into his aching lungs. He had an unbearable urge to vomit all of his stomach's contents onto the road, but he squeezed Louise's fragile hand and counted to ten.

“He's a disgrace to winged men. I hope he dies tonight,” one of them said, a cruel laugh reverberating in the crushing silence. There was a noisy flutter of wings, and then they were gone, vanishing into the night sky.

Phil released a breath he didn't know he was holding, looking down to find Louise lying unconscious against the garbage bin. Phil sighed in frustration. Louise had apparently passed out from fear, and he shook her shoulders lightly. “Louise,” he said, brushing his hair back from his face and shaking her. “Lou, wake up. Lou-”

A sudden, indecipherable noise from behind him startled him, and he bolted to his feet instantly, whipping around to stare into the dingy, pitch-dark alley in front of him. His breaths came out in visible puffs, and his eyes were wide as he stood there, pale and vulnerable in the shadowy passageway. Another abrupt sound, something like nails scraping on walls, and Phil's heart hopped to his throat, stealing his breath and sealing his lips. “Who's there?” he croaked timidly.

The alley was silent and its contents indistinguishable. A small moan of pain made Phil step back and blink in astonishment. The picture of winged men flashed in his mind, and his eyes widened. “Who's there?” he repeated reluctantly. An agony-filled groan echoed throughout the black, empty road, and Phil hesitantly stepped forward. “Are you hurt?” he asked tentatively, unable to stop himself.

The sky rumbled above, foretelling the arrival of rain. A sharp gust of wind tousled his hair and something rattled in the distance, cracking the silence in two. Taking a big, deep breath, Phil marched forward into the sinister darkness. “Is someone there?” The wind carried his whispers into the depths of the narrow alleyway. “Are you hurt? Do you need help?”

Phil stumbled over a plastic bottle and cursed profusely, catching his breath. The path was gloomy and dark, and even the streetlights couldn't penetrate the invisible barrier of ugly blackness surrounding the area. Phil's heart pounded irregularly as he wandered over uncertainly to the very centre. His palms started sweating, and his skin crawled as he stared at the hunched figure near the wall, shivering and shaking on the cold concrete floor. It was way too dark to make out who it was.

“H-hello?” he whispered meekly, his lips quivering in the cold, his black hair whipping back and forth in the harsh wind.

The lone figure stilled like a realistic statue, the miserable sounds and stuttering breaths stopping at once. There was a small flutter of magnificent black wings, and Phil's eyes widened as he staggered back in alarm. His heart raced uncontrollably, and he tripped again over the same plastic bottle, toppling to the floor helplessly.

Phil heaved, staring with wide dread-filled eyes as the creature moved, straightening its stiff shoulders. He stared as it rose to its feet gracefully, with a grandeur he had never seen before, and outstretched its beautiful black wings, a few glossy feathers bursting out and falling to the ground, shimmering like black opals.

It was a winged boy, young and delicate, unmistakable and starkly standing out even in the utter darkness. Cold, empty brown eyes locked with his, so vividly, breathtakingly brown like the earth just before a storm. Phil inhaled sharply, his heart thudding so fast, he distantly wondered if it would pop out of his chest and topple onto the cold, hard ground.

This boy . . . god, he was the most beautiful boy Phil had ever laid eyes on.

Suddenly, Phil's lips felt numb and strange, his tongue too heavy for some reason. All of a sudden, he didn't know how to speak, what to say, what to do.

The creature watched him like a hawk, brown eyes glinting like gemstones. Phil couldn't look away from that sharp gaze. “I–” the boy whimpered, gasping, clutching his chest. It was a small, hoarse voice, and Phil frowned. “I–I–”

The boy's wings crumpled behind his back. His delicate face morphed into an expression of pain. His knees wobbled and he fell to the floor, breathing heavily.

Alarmed, Phil scrambled to his feet and stepped forward. “Are you alright?” The boy let out a moan of pain, and Phil's concern deepened. “What's wrong with you?”

The boy panted and scratched his throat, looking desperate and helpless. “No, don't-” Phil pulled his hands away. The boy heaved, and there were tears in his red-rimmed eyes, his face sickly pale. Phil's heart filled with sympathy. “Hey. Hey, it's okay. Look at me. Look at me. When did you last feed?”

The boy sniffed and whimpered, struggling against Phil's grip and scrambling to get away from Phil. Phil moved back and said softly. “Hey, I'm not trying to hurt you. I'm just trying to hel-”

“Leave!” The boy screamed, panting, cheeks red. “L-leave!”

“Sorry,” Phil managed to pant out somehow. “I'll leave, but you clearly need bloo-”

“Leave,” the boy screamed in a dangerous voice, his chest heaving as he glared at Phil with clear brown eyes. Then, like a shrivelling flower, the boy melted to the floor in exhaustion. “P-please.”

“Phil?” Louise's voice floated to his ears.

“GO AWAY!” the boy bellowed again, clutching his chest, his brown eyes turning into a bright red of blood, shining vividly. Sharp feathers shot out towards Phil like knives and Phil's eyes widened.

A red-eyed winged man was dangerous, and even Phil knew that.

Footsteps sounded from behind him, and his heart thumped. He scrambled around to get up, tripping and falling twice as he struggled to get up. His legs felt like jelly as he sprinted out in complete panic, his feet numb and unfeeling as he fled without looking back, running frantically straight into Louise and knocking her to the ground in his hurry. “Fuck!”

“What the hell! Where were you?” Louise snapped in anger, rubbing her forehead as she rushed to get up.

“Later!” Phil shouted, grabbing her hand and running down the road towards Louise's home, his heart still pounding furiously.

Louise's eyes widened. “What happened?”

“Later, Louise!” he snapped as they darted across the road. “Let's go. Faster, come on!”

Louise kept silent for the rest of their rapid journey, but Phil's mind reeled with a million questions. His stomach lurched as he thought about the brown-eyed boy, his sharp, piercing gaze burned into the back of Phil's mind like a physical imprint. Who was he? What was he doing there?

Phil's mind was a whirling mess, and he panted heavily in relief as they reached Louise's home. His mind was full of disordered thoughts as he watched Louise unlock the door distractedly. She ushered him inside quickly and locked the door shut. She was saying something urgent, asking something important, but Phil's mind was filled to the brim with a different set of questions and he couldn't comprehend anything. He simply collapsed onto the familiar, plush sofa and closed his eyes, lying there like a dead man for several minutes.

The clicking noise of Louise's heels, the clatter of utensils and cupboards being opened reached his ears, but he kept his eyes firmly shut, thoughts drifting back to the black-winged person. He had looked frail and skinny, like he had been starving for months. His eyes had changed into red for a split second, indicating that his body needed blood desperately, but he hadn't killed Phil. He had let Phil go. He had let Phil _go._ Why?

Winged men were not known for such generous behaviour. They were vile, disgusting creatures according to everyone around him. The media portrayed them as violent predators who killed for pleasure more than survival and deeply enjoyed watching their prey suffer and scream. Then why did that man let Phil go? No human had ever encountered a winged man with red eyes and survived to tell the tale. Even Phil agreed with that.

After a cup of warm tea and chocolate biscuits, Louise pushed him into a spare bedroom down the hall, and he collapsed to the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, uneasiness hiding just beneath the surface of his pale skin. He sighed tiredly, wondering how he would be able to sleep tonight. 


	2. Hunger

The dull, repetitive noise of Louise chopping vegetables on the wooden board was the only sound in the warm, homely kitchen. Eyes downcast and despondent, Phil grasped the cup of tea with both hands, warmth seeping into his palm through the ceramic teacup. The low hum of the refrigerator buzzed in his overly alert ears, the pleasant, mouth-watering aroma of whatever Louise was cooking tickling his sensitive nose. Phil's right leg bounced restlessly under the huge mahogany dining table as he recited the previous night's events.

When he was done, he lifted his teacup shakily and took a long sip, putting it down on the table with a loud clatter. The sound of Louise slicing and dicing the vegetables ceased abruptly, and she turned to him with disbelieving eyes, a sharp knife in one hand and a small carrot in the other. “Are you serious?” she probed incredulously, her wavy, golden locks pulled back into a messy bun atop her head.

Phil let out a soft, lethargic sigh. “Yeah.”

Louise observed him with inquisitive, clever green eyes, eyebrows creasing in concern. Quietly, she whirled around in her floral apron, placing both the knife and the carrot on the board carefully. Phil dropped his gaze to his cup, sighing and taking another small sip. There were sounds of clanking kitchen utensils and stirring noises for a few minutes before Louise turned the stove off and swerved around the table to sit opposite to him. Phil looked up, meeting her curious gaze.

“You're sure you weren't hallucinating or something?” she asked cautiously, her manicured nails drumming on the wooden table.

“Yeah,” he confided confidently, “I'm sure.”

Louise hummed thoughtfully. “Well, that's literally unheard of.”

“What?”

Louise sighed exasperatedly. She stood up silently and poured herself some warm tea, filling up Phil's cup while she was at it. “Biscuits?” she inquired, pushing a plate laden with chocolate biscuits across the table.

Phil muttered his thanks and took a biscuit from the plate, watching fondly as Louise dunked her biscuit into her tea and devoured it eagerly, swallowing gratefully. “Red eyes,” she concluded finally. “You know what that means, right? He was starving . . . and dying, probably . . .” She stared at her nails, inspecting it carefully. “If he had red eyes, it means he was craving for blood, Phil. Winged people can't control themselves when they're hungry. They just can't. They're violent, uncontrollable creatures. I can't believe he let you go when he was in that condition.”

“That's what the media says,” Phil intoned desperately. “Not all winged men are–”

“Yes, I get it. I get your point,” Louise interrupted, taking a careful sip from her cup. “But they literally can't _control_ themselves. That's a fact. They are extremely short-tempered and feral. There is no way–”

“Then why did he let me go? How am I alive?” Phil countered rebelliously, fingers gripping his teacup tightly. “He was dying, Lou! He was dying and he let me go. I think he was sobbing . . .”

Louise shrugged. “Maybe you ran away before he could–”

Phil scoffed in disbelief, running a frustrated hand through his black hair. “Why can't you understand?” he whispered helplessly, “I admit maybe one or two are barbaric and blood-sucking beasts, but–but most aren't. They _need_ blood to survive. I bet they would stop murdering people if we could just donate our blood legally or make some kind of other arrangement to provide them blood. Maybe–”

“They're not nice, Phil,” Louise said softly, as if talking to a small child, “They don't want our donated blood. They want to murder and kill and torture. They're not human. They don't share human values. Why should we treat them as humans?”

“If they really wanted to murder all of us, they could attack us in our sleep. They could break into our homes. They could hunt us in broad daylight,” Phil explained stubbornly. “They don't.”

“That's because they can't break the treaty!” Louise spluttered, appalled.

“What treaty?”

Louise stared at him like he was an ancient neanderthal. “The peace treaty, Phil. Not much is known about it, but according to myths, about five thousand years ago, humans and winged men ended a huge war and came to an agreement. Winged men vowed that they would never hunt before midnight. In return, humans promised not to kill their newborns by cutting off their wings.”

“Oh,” Phil murmured, listening with rapt attention, drinking in every single detail. “What happens if we cut off their wings?”

Louise's eyes turned a shade darker, her face sombre as she murmured, “It's barbaric to do that. Their wings are their most precious thing. It's their weapon in a way.” Louise appeared thoughtful. “I've never seen it but I've heard that their wings can turn razor-sharp. Without their wings, they're defenseless and they'll die a very slow, very painful death. It's a cruel thing to do, I admit.”

Phil's heart sank a little. “Oh.”

“That's why they won't break the treaty. They don't want another war. They're dying out already, and we have weapons now that can kill them in mere seconds,” Louise elaborated, “They can't risk a war with us. They don't stand a chance.”

Phil contemplated it for a while, taking a small slurp of his tea and biting into his biscuit. Louise dipped another biscuit into her tea and gobbled it up so quickly that Phil smiled in amusement. He huffed and let out a quiet sigh. “Winged men are living in fear too though. Hunters track them down and lock them up in isolation cells. That's horrible. Most of them don't even drink human blood anymore. They drink blood from corpses or only drink animal blood. Maybe they don't _want_ to kill. They just have no other choice. Like I said, if we could donate–”

“Some of them still hunt and kill,” Louise cut in sharply. “That's why we're advised to stay home after 6 O'clock.”

“We were out last night. We didn't see any murder happen–”

“Can we just agree to disagree?” Louise huffed softly, her nails clicking against the teacup in rhythm. “We have different opinions on this subject, and that's completely okay. Let's not have an argument about it.” As an afterthought, she added, “Please.”

Phil remained quiet, pursing his lips and staring at the tabletop. Louise's red lips stretched into a hesitant smile, her green eyes dark and dull as she lifted her pale hand and tucked some loose strands behind her ear, her diamond earrings clinking against her wedding ring. “You're full of kindness and love, Phil,” she whispered sorrowfully, staring at the table glumly. “Don't waste it on people who don't deserve it.”

An uneasy silence blanketed them, unnerving Phil and making him squirm uncomfortably. He stopped shaking his right leg and sat stiffly, finishing the last dregs of his tea.

~*~

A whole, uneventful month passed before Phil had the unforeseen opportunity to meet the brown-eyed boy again. He was dashing through the empty street at midnight, returning home after an unsuccessful attempt at a one night stand. He had gone home with a man he met at the pub, only to discover he was a married man with two kids, a Pomeranian dog and three cats. Phil had stared at the previously unnoticed wedding ring on the man's finger for a few, disbelieving moments before standing up and bolting through the door immediately.

Looking back, he surmised sullenly that running away without checking the time had been a rash, impetuous mistake. Now he was stuck alone in the macabre silence of the midnight city, all of his nerves pulled taut as if someone were choking him with their bare hands. His nervous gaze flitted across the lifeless road, eyes wide open and vigilant. “Alert and aware,” he muttered under his breath like an incantation, “Alert and aware, Phil.”

Suddenly, there was a loud bang from somewhere far away, and then something clinked repeatedly in the distance, breaking the silence. Almost immediately, a sharp, repugnant odor of rotting flesh invaded his nostrils, and he swallowed fearfully. “Alert and aware. Alert and . . .” he chanted like a mantra, adrenaline pumping through his veins. His heart thudded and his footsteps thumped noisily on the ground as he heaved and rushed into an unknown alleyway, hiding inside, his whole body trembling with trepidation.

The series of events that happened next was something he never expected, never in a million years. There was no hint, no signal, and no great rush of anticipation or hysteria. He simply turned, a seemingly very normal action, but apparently it wasn't. One moment he was standing still, staring into a pair of bright brown eyes, but the next he was being forcefully shoved into the brick wall.

Phil's back slammed against the wall, and his head collided painfully against the hard surface, a loud gasp leaving his quivering lips at the harsh impact. There was a pale hand wrapped tightly around his throat, and dangerously beautiful black wings enveloped him from both sides, trapping him. His heart stuttered in his chest as he stared into a pair of bright, glistening brown eyes. Phil's whole body shuddered, and he panted uncontrollably, but all he could do was stare helplessly at the angry boy in front of him, staring back at him with that cold, freezing gaze.

“I . . .” The boy breathed heavily, inhaling Phil's scent deep into his lungs like a wild dog. Phil shivered, goosebumps rising on his skin. “ . . . I w-want . . .”

Phil's heart beat quickened, his hands trembling as he pressed his sweaty palms flat against the brick wall, a dull ache starting at the injured part of his head. The winged man's wings fluttered around him, quiet little flaps occupying the solemn silence all around Phil, pressing against his ears and making him deaf. Brown eyes flickered into a bright, glowing yellow, indicating the boy's physical health, letting Phil know how severely malnourished and deprived of blood this particular winged man was.

 _Red eyes mean hungry; yellow eyes mean anaemia._ Phil remembered Louise telling him vividly like it happened just yesterday.

However, he didn't get enough time to dwell on it because suddenly, the brown-eyed boy shuddered, his eyes changing colours, yellow to brown and brown to yellow. He let out a broken sob and tears gathered at the corner of his eyes, his body shaking violently. “I c-can't–don't–” he gasped out in pain, knees wobbling vehemently.

Burning yellow eyes abruptly melted into a dull brown, and the boy let go of him instantly, falling to his knees and clutching his head, crying in visible pain. “Leave,” he sniffed, his eyes flickering yellow, his wings collapsing behind his back, “P-please.”

Phil's knees were shaking ferociously, his back pressed flat against the grimy wall, his mind a tumultuous swirl of emotions. Through the gut-wrenching terror and heart-stopping panic, logic and rationality flowed into him like a stream in a valley. Why? Why was this boy letting him go? This boy was obviously stronger than Phil. He could've killed Phil to keep himself alive, but he chose to die rather than kill, and Phil's selfless nature stopped him from walking away.

The winged boy screamed in agony, his thin, frail body paler than before. His face was gaunt and his cheeks hollow, his lips tinted blue. He looked like a dead man's skeleton as he cried out in pain, wings thrashing helplessly behind his back. There was no doubt about it. This young boy was dying . . .

A rush of sympathy shot through Phil's chest at the unending suffering of this boy.

 _You're full of kindness and love,_ _Phil._

Louise's subdued voice echoed in his twitching ears, playing over and over and over until it all cluttered together and collapsed in a heap. His mind was buzzing. Thoughts were far away, and he didn't let himself ponder much about what he was about to do. His whole body was numb and unfeeling as he took a step forward, every single footstep resonating like a drum in a quiet, empty room.

 _Don't waste it on people who don't deserve it_.

Phil dropped to his knees on the cold, dirty ground and pulled out the pocket knife he kept with him for safety. Without giving it a second thought, he slashed his palm open fearlessly, clenching his jaw as blood dripped down to the ground.

The winged boy immediately stilled, breathing heavily, his eyes wide open and in awe as he stared at Phil. Extending his hand towards the boy's lips, Phil mumbled, “Drink. You need it.”

The boy leapt forward at once, gripping Phil's wrist with trembling fingers and placing his lips against Phil's palm. The boy drank and drank, and his eyes fluttered shut, his long, black eyelashes hiding his deep brown eyes.

Phil watched him quietly, sitting there in utter silence. After a while, he began to wonder if the boy would ever stop. He didn't have to wonder for long because soon the boy pulled away, a trickle of bright red blood trailing down the corner of his mouth as he darted his tongue and licked his lips, eyes a brilliant, earthy brown with sparkling golden specks around the irises.

He gave Phil a grateful look but his eyes fell shut and he slumped with exhaustion against Phil's chest, breathing heavily. His head thunked forward against the Phil's shoulders, and Phil frowned. The boy's breathing was shallow, and his movements lethargic. Phil chewed on his bottom lip, staring at the mop of messy brown curls on his chest. “Are you alright?” he asked cautiously in a soft voice.

The boy's eyes were closed as he murmured quiet little apologies, as if he were holding on desperately to his consciousness. “What happened to you?” Phil couldn't help but wonder. “Why are you starving?”

The boy was quiet for a long time, but then he shoved Phil away with violent force, eyes brown and filled with tears as he scampered unsteadily to his feet. His legs wobbled and he swayed on his feet. Instantly, Phil jumped to his feet, his tender hands sliding across the boy's waist and holding him up. “Easy,” Phil murmured quietly, inexplicably worried.

The boy slapped his hands away, stepping back. There was a shrill sound of fluttering wings and a sharp whooshing of air. Phil blinked and turned and the boy was gone, disappearing up into the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to clarify that THIS is NOT a vampire story. I posted this elsewhere first and some were disappointed because there was no vampire blood sucking scene and the whole sink-teeth-into-fragile-neck action. The blood thing is a SMALL but necessary thing in the story. I mentioned it just in case.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	3. Let me help

Phil awoke, startled and with a very bizarre sense of disorientation, to the pitter-pattering sound of rain on his roof. His mind was trapped in a mist of confusion, almost like being in a medication-induced trance. He let out a weary yawn, his fingers clenching and unclenching around the cool, satin sheets. He was tucked carefully under a soft, fluffy, duvet, cold feet sticking out at the bottom. 

With a long, suffering sigh, he sat upright and stretched lazily, assembling his strength inwardly and preparing himself for another long, tedious day. Languidly and in a half-conscious state, he planted his bare feet on the floor, scratching his neck and yawning tiredly as he hobbled over to his bedroom window, peeling back the coffee-coloured polyester curtains to reveal the world outside.

It was pouring heavily. Huge raindrops splatted against his window like hard pebbles, sliding in thick rivulets down the glass. Icy sheets of rain whipped and lashed back and forth in the wind, hurtling down to the ground at breakneck speed. The street below was still full of people and their colourful umbrellas. Roads were overcrowded with cars, their tires splashing puddles of water on the footpath as they swished by.

Phil observed it all with a vague sense of detachment, his pale hands scratching his neck absently. His mind drifted back to the previous day, to black wings and deep brown eyes, and his whole body tensed immediately. His heartbeat stuttered for a split second before the unpleasant memories clonked on top of him like a ton of bricks, reminding him instantly of his worrisome actions the night before.

He gulped uncomfortably, eyes unfocused as he stared at a drop of rainwater slipping down his window. “What the hell was I thinking?” he muttered in resignation, thumping his head repeatedly against the glass and groaning in anguish. “I could've died.”

He remembered the night with extreme, exceptional clarity. He remembered the pale, sickly face of the boy and his tears. A twinge of sympathy shot through his chest, and his regrets and fears faded away. He could never regret helping that boy. He obviously needed it. Phil knew he would help again if needed, even if that meant putting his own life at risk. He was not selfless, not at all, but he wasn't selfish either.

Phil's chain of thoughts was interrupted by the loud noise of his phone blaring unceremoniously in the quiet of the room. He sighed, shoving thoughts of the brown-eyed boy to the back of his mind and pulling out his phone which was, unsurprisingly, still in his pocket. After all, he had come back home and collapsed on the bed the night before.

It was Chris, his best friend and literary agent. Phil attended the call immediately, pressing his phone against his ear and ambling back to his bed. “H-hello?” he croaked and then cleared his throat awkwardly, trying again. “Hey, what's up?”

There was a crackle of static and then Chris's voice sounded through the phone. “Phil!” he exclaimed anxiously. “Where the fuck have you been? The deadline is approaching soon!”

Phil blinked, racking his brains for the date of the deadline but couldn't remember at all. “Er . . .” he rubbed his forehead, chewing on his bottom lip. “I'm working on it.”

“Did you finish it?” Chris inquired accusingly. “I read the last few pages you emailed me. I don't think the plot twist works. It's not much of a plot twist at all, to be honest. I think you need to change it up a bit.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Phil admitted, running a frustrated hand through his black hair. His restless, roaming gaze settled on his laptop sitting on the huge table near the window, submerged entirely under unwashed mugs of tea, unhealthy packets of snacks and wrappers of uneaten chocolate. This was the worst part of being a popular writer, he concluded, having to write and rewrite pages over and over again. “I was thinking about killing off Marzia.”

“No!” Chris protested immediately, his rough voice intimidated. “She's the best character in your novel, Phil! Don't you do that? Everyone will hate you.”

Phil sighed tiredly, analysing his nails. “Alright. I'll think of something,” he assured confidently, “I've been thinking of taking a break from YouTube too.”

“Good. You've been way too stressed and busy lately,” Chris confirmed solemnly, and Phil's eyes darted across the room to his chair of dirty laundry. He cursed himself inwardly, berating himself for not doing his laundry that he had promised himself he would do last Saturday . . . or was it the Saturday of last month? He couldn't remember. “Take some time off for yourself.”

“Yeah. I will,” Phil reassured absently, mind full of chores that he had been putting off for way too long. Chris kept talking about yet another conspicuous plot hole he had found in the sequel of Phil's well-liked novel, and Phil's mind floated all the way to his unclean kitchen. There were probably unwashed dishes in the sink, and the living room was most certainly in complete shambles from that time he had a few of his messy friends over. Then there was his laundry again . . .

Chris ended the conversation after describing some solutions to the plot hole, and Phil sighed, throwing the phone on top of his duvet and collapsing back to his bed, lying still as he stared at the ceiling tiredly. Silence pressed in on his ears, echoing loudly for several, disheartening moments.

_Leave._

_Please._

Phil groaned when his thoughts returned to the boy, mind drifting to the unbelievable events of the night before. He had never envisioned this strange experience; he never thought he would help a winged boy one day.

On top of that, the winged boy's actions went against all preconceived notions about their peculiar nature. The brown-eyed boy had let him go initially, defying his own natural instincts. Phil was utterly confused and a little curious about the boy's behaviour, but he knew that he had done the right thing.

~*~

Phil had never thought he would ever believe in something as preposterous as fate, but he was feeling slightly inclined to believe in it when he kept crossing paths with the brown-eyed boy.

Unexpectedly, he encountered the winged boy again after almost a week. He had been gazing forlornly at the boundless gunmetal-grey sky through his window, eyes sleep-laden and droopy as he sighed. His empty eyes had swept across the street vacantly, widening with a sudden jolt when a familiar tall, skeletal figure limped helplessly into his line of vision. He pressed his palms against the glass and peered down with wide, curious eyes, his heart beating a little faster than normal.

The boy's wings were crumpled powerlessly behind his back, fresh, red blood trickling down his leg and creating small blotches of red on the empty, barren road. Phil stared with his mouth agape, eyes fixated unblinkingly on the boy as he limped down the street and disappeared around the corner. 

Something was very, very different about this boy, and Phil's curiosity made him sprint out of the room and onto the deserted street, barely remembering to lock the door as he hurried urgently towards the familiar alleyway, following the red patches of blood.

As he neared the dark, dismal alley, he heard the noises of pain, quiet little grunts and afflicted groans that made Phil sympathise even more with the enemy. His trudging footsteps echoed in the desolated street as he entered the alley, the air thick with a strange melancholy. He was shocked and baffled by his morbid fascination with this dying person, but he couldn't stop himself from reaching out no matter how hard he tried.

Phil's eyes were fixed on the trembling figure in front of him, shaking like a leaf in the frosty night air. The ground was wet, the potholes still overflowing with rainwater. A small, barely noticeable drizzle sent tiny little ripples through the puddles, and Phil licked a small raindrop that fell onto his bottom lip. The boy didn't see Phil, and he slowly stepped closer in curiosity. 

“Er,” he began nervously, gathering all of his strength. “Are you okay?”

The boy stilled, clutching his wounded leg tightly, his face scrunched up in pain. He was breathing heavily, his eyes a dull, undernourished yellow that kept flickering brown. His hands were smudged red, and there was a small pool of blood around his feet.

Phil's eyes widened comically and without thinking, he ambled towards the boy, dropping to his knees on the wet, dirty ground. The boy's deep brown gaze lifted to watch him, an indescribable but profound look in his innocent eyes. Phil swallowed, dropping his head nervously, his heart thrumming with fast, unsteady beats. “Let me see,” he murmured cautiously, hands trembling perceptibly as he reached forward. “You're hurt.”

The boy let out a low, anxious whimper, and Phil stilled, watching the boy who was peering up at him through his long, black eyelashes. Phil breathed as deeply as he could and gave the boy a hesitant, soothing smile. “I'm just trying to help you, okay? I promise you,” he tried to explain as calmly as he could. “Let me see.”

The boy was staring at him intently, watching his every move with utter fascination. With a deep, huffing breath, Phil collected all his confidence and tried again, placing his warm hand above the boy's cold ones and uncoiling his rigid fingers one by one, slowly and cautiously. The boy tensed but said nothing as Phil inspected the gaping wound near his ankle.

“You're losing blood . . .” Phil mumbled worriedly, looking at the blood oozing out of the deep cut above his bony ankle. On top of being acutely malnourished and weak, this boy was also losing blood quickly and painfully. 

Phil's stomach tied itself in convoluted knots, concern creeping into his mind for this strange boy. Sympathy flooded his heart and without giving it a second thought, he tore open his shirt and proceeded to tie it around the boy's ankle, focusing on nothing but the person in front of him who truly needed his help.

Winged men had powerful regeneration capabilities, and Phil only needed to provide him blood until his body regained some of his previous strength. The cut would seal itself eventually. 

“You're almost dying . . .” Phil whispered sorrowfully, extremely aware of the boy's hawk-like gaze. “You've been starving. Why?”

The boy blinked, and Phil saw his hands clench into fists, a furious determination burning in his glossy, red-rimmed eyes as he stared at the ground. Phil sighed and slid his hand into his pocket, pulling out his pocket knife. The boy's eyes widened, and almost instantly, he extended his hand and slapped the knife away, breathing heavily. “No!” he shouted aggressively. “No!”

Phil stared at him in surprise, analysing his clenched jaw and gritting teeth. A gentle breeze blew the boy's curls onto his flushed cheeks, and he brushed it back with a pale, bony hand. Oh god, he was so skinny . . . “You need it,” Phil whispered cautiously. The boy shook his head and Phil furrowed his eyebrows. “You're losing blood, you idiot. You need it.”

The boy glared at him, an unknown emotion twirling round and round in his eyes. His gaunt face and sunken cheeks gave him a ghost-like appearance, and Phil wondered distantly about what had happened to him. “Do you want to die?” Phil asked quietly, staring at the patches of blood on the ground. This was one of those moments when Phil wished humans were a little more tolerating of winged men. If humans and winged men didn't hate each other, this would never happen. “Let me help you. Your wound won't heal if you don't drink.”

The boy swallowed and his eyes filled with tears. He clenched his jaw and sniffed, scrambling around to get up. Phil reached forward and gripped his wrist. “You're too weak. You can't walk,” he warned.

The boy pulled his hand away angrily and glared at Phil with tear-filled eyes. He ignored Phil and lurched to his feet, blinking repeatedly. Immediately, he swayed and wobbled on his feet as he tried to take a step forward. Phil sighed and watched as a wave of momentary dizziness swept over the stubborn boy, knocking him back. A silent gasp left his soft-looking, pink lips, and he dropped back straight into Phil's lap, blinking up at Phil's stony, blank face.

“I told you,” Phil muttered, looking down at his face.

A momentary silence passed, and the boy's cheeks coloured due to undeniable embarrassment. He looked away hastily, his brown curls hiding his bright eyes.

Minutes passed by in complete silence, and the boy quietly moved away from him, sitting next to the wall with his knees pulled to his chest. Phil crossed his legs and waited patiently, sitting there in silence, his clothes wet and soaked. Drops of rainwater came tumbling to his head, and he wondered what he was doing and why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. I actually forgot it was Thursday so I'm a bit late, sorry! Being home all day due to quarantine is so weird. Days are starting to blend in together :(


	4. Strange boy

Rainwater seeped through Phil's blue jeans as he sat there on the wet, muddy ground, the chilly breeze lashing painfully against his delicate skin. The slow, thrumming sound of the rain striking the ground occupied his mind, and he sighed softly.

“Why?” the boy whispered quietly.

Phil blinked as he stared at the boy's bright brown eyes. “Why what?”

The boy dropped his gaze to his knees. “W-why would you help me?”

Phil shrugged, tilting his head in genuine confusion. “Why not?”

His eyes suddenly filled with tears as he murmured, “I don't deserve it.”

Phil stared at the boy, remaining quiet for a long time. A stab of pity made him launch to his feet and grab his pocket knife. The boy's eyes widened, and he stared at Phil with an awed gaze. Phil made a small cut on his palm and sat back down, extending his hand towards the boy. “You do.”

The boy sniffed, his brown eyes wide as he stared at Phil. There was still a slight reluctancy on his face, and he turned away. “No,” he sniffled, “Leave me alone.”

Phil sighed. “Look, I'm losing blood anyway,” he explained, gesturing to the blood dripping from his palm. “Why don't you just take it?”

The boy glanced at the blood and bit his lip. “N-no.”

Phil huffed. “I can do this all day,” he threatened, “I promise I'll leave you alone once I make sure you don't die.”

The boy breathed heavily and chewed on his bottom lip nervously. Minutes passed quietly as Phil sat there, and finally, fragile fingers reached up to tightly grip Phil's wrists, lips pressing against his palm.

Phil sat stiffly on the damp ground, wet clothing clinging to his sticky skin and teeth chattering vehemently. The air was cold and biting, and he shivered involuntarily.

Almost immediately, like a gentle unfurling of a flower bud, beautiful, shimmering black wings sprouted from both sides, shooting out to block the cold air.

“Whoa.” Phil blinked in surprise. He had heard many rumours about a winged man's wings. Apparently, they held the capability to turn into razor-sharp blades that could cut through any metal, but in that quiet, unnoticed moment, those magnificent wings looked soft, softer than the most expensive velvet.

The warmth provided by the resplendent wings was unmistakable, and Phil suddenly had an urge to touch those shiny feathers.

The boy pulled away before he could, and this time, the lightheadedness the boy felt was visible on his soft features. His eyes blinked open, fingers brushing the sticky, wet hair back from his face. He lowered his steady gaze and locked eyes with Phil. The boy was staring intently, his eyes a vividly brilliant and clear brown, glinting with a newly acquired glow. Phil's breath caught in his throat instantly, something like admiration or awe unraveling in his chest. Holy hell, this boy truly was beautiful.

Minutes passed in an absolute silence that almost numbed his ears. The rain poured little by little, a few, scattered drops here and there, merely sending small ripples through the puddles.

The boy breathed heavily, his eyes wide in wonder. He extended his hand curiously as if to touch Phil but Phil backed away silently. “You'll be fine now,” he told the strange boy. “Don't starve again. It's not good for your body.”

The boy's lips curled down in sorrow, but he continued to stare at him with startling brown eyes, his unwavering gaze fixed on Phil. The air was cold and a shiver ran along the knots of his spine. He needed to go home and change into warm clothes.

“Alright, I'll leave you alone now,” he announced, slowly rising to his feet. “You should go home and rest too, okay?”

The boy blinked stupidly and scrambled around to get up, skipping to his feet and bowing his head, rain water dripping from his hair to the cold ground. Phil's mouth remained closed as he glanced around the dark, silent alley. “Alright then.” He waved a hand absently and turned away. “I'll be on my way. It was nice meeting you. Take care.”

The boy said nothing, but his shimmering wings fluttered incessantly behind his back in a magnificent display of regained strength. The small sound of flapping wings echoed throughout the soundless, barren street, and Phil sighed in relief. He walked out of the alley and down the street, proud of himself for helping a person in need. He knew he would never forget the beautiful boy.

His complacent smile was soon washed away from his face by small noises of timid, tiptoeing footsteps behind him. Abruptly coming to a halt, he whirled around in confusion.

The boy lowered his eyes instantly, staring sadly at his feet. Phil blinked at him in utter surprise. “Erm, do you need anything?” he inquired in bafflement, wiping the rainwater from his forehead.

The boy remained quiet, fumbling nervously with his pale, skeletal fingers. His midnight black wings were lowered and crumpled behind his back, his hair and clothes wet and dripping with rainwater. There was nothing but a spine-tingling silence all around, booming loudly in Phil's ears. Under the circle of the street lamp, the boy's eyes glowed a bright caramel brown, and he looked small and a bit . . . lonely.

Phil sighed exasperatedly when a reply didn't come, stepping over a small puddle and continuing his walk. He turned a corner and his home came into view. The sound of quiet, sneaky footsteps hadn't ceased, and Phil turned once again. “Is there anything you need?” he asked bluntly, slightly nonplussed and agitated.

The boy's eyes dropped to his feet again, and Phil stared at him, scrutinizing his pale face. Minutes passed, and the boy hesitantly lifted his gaze. He raised his hand, giving Phil a wave and a small, grateful smile, dimples showing.

Phil furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Okay, bye,” he said, waving back. He turned around, continuing his walk, but as expected, the footsteps started once again.

Phil whirled around in utter puzzlement, a bit afraid. “Look, I helped you as much as I could. I'm sorry, but this is as much as I can do, okay?” he said as calmly as he could, “So you can stop following me now.”

The footsteps ceased abruptly, and the boy stared at his feet. Phil jogged to his home, wind whipping through his hair. Unnerved by the boy's odd, creepy behaviour, Phil shoved his fingers into his pockets, pulling out the key in a hurry.

Curiosity stopped him at once, and he couldn't help looking back at the empty street. There the boy was, stood under a broken street lamp like a skeleton. He looked alone and sad, like he was longing for any kind of social interaction. His lips were bright red, a small smear of blood stuck at the corner of his mouth. His hollow cheeks were prominent in the low light. There was a macabre, almost other-worldly look in his eyes, like a lonely ghost that haunted abandoned roads.

A strange sadness rolled through Phil's body, and he hurried inside before his sympathy made him invite the boy in. He jammed the key into the door lock of his apartment, opening the door in one swift movement and slamming it shut. He was greeted by a mind-numbing silence, snapped only by his heavy breathing. There was a distant shuffling sound and a flutter of wings from outside, and then everything went irritatingly quiet. Phil breathed in relief, knowing the boy had flown away into the night.

~*~

Phil roused from a deep, restful sleep the next morning, the placid atmosphere and warm, soft sheets welcoming him into awareness. The morning chillness made him curl into a ball and sigh into the comfortable duvet, arms and limbs just a little fatigued and weak due to heavy sleep.

Minutes passed in blissful silence, and then he rolled over tiredly and stretched his arms with a satisfied groan, his shabby T-shirt riding up to expose his pale stomach to the cold air. Letting out a deep, contented sigh, he fluttered his eyes open, staring absently at the white ceiling.

It was a typical Thursday morning, a day like any other, and Phil had a fuckload of things to do and a lot of pages to write. Huffing in slight annoyance, he sat up quietly and stretched again, running his fingers through his messy hair.

Everything was perfectly normal, in fact, a little too normal and quiet until he yawned loudly and turned his head, only to find the brown-eyed boy perched on his bedroom window like a damn bird.

Phil let out a startled scream, eyes wide as he clamped a hand over his mouth and shut up immediately, breathing heavily and painfully. The boy simply stared at him, looking nervous. A quiet, shocked moment passed, and Phil glanced at the wide open window, immediately realizing where the boy had come from.

Fully awake and aware, Phil's thoughts instantly turned to the people in the streets, and he jumped to his feet, his pyjamas hanging low on his waist as he scampered towards the boy. Without thinking, Phil grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from the large window.

The boy's empty eyes widened, a dark blush coating his cheeks, but he remained silent as Phil forced him away from the window. “What are you doing!” Phil exclaimed in shock and bafflement. “You're not supposed to be outside during the day. If someone sees you, they'll kill you!”

The boy continued to stare at Phil's hand on his wrist, emotions inconspicuous as stood there, looking quiet and guilty.

Phil sighed and let go of his arm, gazing at him suspiciously once they were away from the window. He noticed that the boy still looked gaunt and skinny, his cheeks sunken and his collar bones jutting out like broken sticks. “What are you doing here?” he asked in confusion. “Do you need something?”

The boy remained silent, staring at his feet, hopping from one foot to another nervously. Furrowing his eyebrows, Phil patted the boy's arm and repeated confusedly, “What do you want? It's daytime. You're not supposed to be here. You can't even leave before it's midnight. Did you want to get stuck here?”

The boy's wings fluttered a little, and many black feathers dropped to the floor. Phil stared at the mess and then back at the strange boy. “Er . . .”

Unsure of what to say and how to react, Phil stood awkwardly, mind reeling with a torrent of questions. “Er, why are you here?” he inquired.

The winged boy's pale, hollow-cheeked face remained impassive and Phil's eyebrows creased in puzzlement. “I'm a little busy. Er, is there _any_ particular reason you're here? Do you want more blood?” he repeated cautiously, mind sailing to the billion chores he needed to get done before the day ended. There was so much to do but so little time.

Silence and a blank look was all he got in return, and Phil sighed, his stomach aching. “Alright, then. I really need to go to the bathroom so I'll, uh, I'll just go.”

Another empty stare, and Phil huffed, ambling away hurriedly into the bathroom, leaving the boy to brood in his room.

When Phil returned, he found the boy in the exact same position and the same place, inspecting his chipped nails. Phil stared at him and repeated the same questions from before, staring at him for what felt like hours and waiting for an answer.

All he received in return was silence, and finally, Phil decided that he needed to use a different approach. He couldn't just kick him out. That would cause a lot of panic outside, and the boy would probably get killed. Phil didn't save the boy to get him killed later. With an exasperated sigh, he asked, “Er, since you're here, do you want some tea?”

As far as Phil knew, winged men were capable of consuming human food as long as they fulfilled their weekly requirement of blood. He had a morbid fascination with the cruel lifestyle of winged people, and he usually read articles about winged men in his free time. Their bodies were freakishly similar to humans, the only perplexing difference being their unavoidable need for blood.

Not waiting for an answer, Phil turned around and stalked out of the room, hurrying into his kitchen and proceeding to prepare tea for himself and his uninvited guest who he had no idea what to do about.

The boy with coffee-coloured eyes finally dragged himself out of the room and followed Phil into the kitchen, tip-toeing suspiciously towards Phil and looking around with a doubtful, wary gaze. He hopped from foot to foot, looking nervous and scared. His black wings hung limply behind his shoulders, dragging on the floor and leaving feathers scattered everywhere.

“Here,” Phil mumbled quietly after a few minutes of awkward silence, thrusting a cup of warm tea into the boy's hands. “You can, er, sit there.” He pointed towards the dining table.

The boy lowered his eyes, looking nervous as he strolled towards the small table. His large wings knocked the cups and glasses on the counter to the floor, and Phil cursed under his breath. “Stop. Stop,” he said urgently, and the boy immediately stopped, eyes wide. “Can you, uh, can you lower your wings a little bit?”

The boy looked back at his wings and lowered them, reaching back and grabbing them with both hands. Phil watched with raised eyebrows as the boy waddled awkwardly around the table and took a seat on a wooden chair, sighing in relief when he didn't break anything else.

With a grateful cup of tea in his hands, Phil lounged in front of him, gazing at the boy suspiciously. He didn't understand what the boy was doing here, but it was not safe for him to be here. It was still bright outside, and if the boy was seen out in broad daylight, he would be arrested or possibly killed.

Phil sighed. He couldn't let the boy stay, but he couldn't let the boy leave either. “Why are you here?” he repeated.

Phil tapped his knuckles on the table impatiently, watching as the boy took a sip of his tea, throat bobbing as he gulped it down, adjusting his wings behind his back. Phil sighed. “Are you deaf, perhaps?”

The boy looked up and glared. Phil huffed, and he was slowly losing his patience. “Are you going to say anything?”

“Yes,” he answered finally.

Phil blinked in surprise. “Oh, okay. What?”

The boy stared at his cup, looking slightly disgusted. “I want more sugar,” he said, pushing the cup towards a wide-eyed Phil. His voice was warm and very soft in the silence of the small, cluttered kitchen and it slightly disoriented Phil. “Please,” he added.

Phil huffed and rolled his eyes in disbelief, standing up and fulfilling his request. The boy took the cup back, taking another long sip and licking his lips. Satisfied, he gave Phil a grin. “Thank you.”

Phil blinked in surprise and sighed, mumbling, “You're welcome.”

Phil sat impatiently and drummed his fingers on the table exasperatedly, leg bouncing under the table. Then suddenly, the boy spoke in a quiet voice, “Dan.”

Phil blinked, going very still. “What?”

“My name. Dan Howell.” He beamed proudly, looking up and pointing at himself with his forefinger. Phil stared blankly, and the boy pointed at Phil, asking, “What's your name?”

Phil wasn't sure what the fuck was going on, but he felt compelled to answer. “Phil Lester.”

The boy, Dan, nodded happily, taking another sip from his cup. His lips were stretched into a permanent smile as he set down his cup and grabbed his wings. Phil watched curiously as the boy plucked a shiny feather, wincing in pain. “Ow.”

Phil breathed exasperatedly, tapping his fingernails on the table and wondering what the boy was doing.

Dan extended his hand and offered the feather to Phil happily, “Here.”

Phil blinked, taken aback. “Er . . . ” Phil glanced back at the mess of scattered black feathers all over his kitchen and said, “Don't you think I have enough feathers already?” He pointed towards the heap of feathers all over the place.

Dan's smile vanished and he turned to look at the mess he had made, lips curling downwards as his hands lowered, fingers clenching around the feather. Phil immediately felt bad. “Uh, I wasn't trying to make you feel bad. I'm sorry,” he said anxiously. “If it's a gift or something, I'll take it.”

Dan didn't reply, looking uninterested in that. Phil shut his mouth and quietly sipped his tea. Dan squirmed in his seat, fingers fumbling with the handle of his teacup, wings flapping a little noisily. Gulping down his tea, Phil asked, “Is something wrong?”

Dan glanced at him through his eyelashes, looking so openly innocent and vulnerable that Phil blinked. There was a moment of complete and utter silence, broken abruptly by the sound of Phil's phone buzzing in his pocket. He stood up abruptly. “Oh, shit. I'm going to be late!” he shouted, “Sorry, I have to meet Louise–my friend today.”

Phil swallowed his tea quickly and placed it in the sink hurriedly, already rushing from the kitchen when he remembered his unlikely guest. “Er, I have to go,” he said in an awkward voice. “I'm sorry. I don't know why you're here, and you refuse to say anything.”

Dan remained seated, elegantly and gracefully sipping his tea as if he were on a luxury cruise, not paying attention to Phil at all. His phone buzzed again, and Louise's angry, impatient face popped into his mind. “Alright, fine, just stay here. Don't leave,” Phil pleaded quickly, half-way out of the door. “Don't leave before midnight. Everyone will see you.”

Phil only recieved an annoying silence as an answer, and with an irritated huff, he put on his shoes and left in a hurry, wondering what chaos he might be coming back to later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I'm updating a little early because I'm busy on Thursday. I didn't want to risk it. I absolutely hate missing updates so here it is.  
> Hope it was good! It's a little slow because I don't like rushing into things. Anyway, see you next Thursday! Thank you for reading! :)


	5. A flutter of wings

Phil returned home late at night, burnt out and weary after a whole day of babysitting Louise's kids. His eyes were barely open and blurry, feet dragging on the carpeted floor as he trudged into his living room and dropped on the sofa like a dead weight, letting out a huge breath of relief. 

The walls of his living room were a soft, soothing lilac, covered with the photographs of himself and his friends. The familiarity and comfort of his room soothed him, and he took another deep, satisfied breath. The coffee table in front of him was clean and spotless, and the entire room was far too tidy, making him feel–

_Wait._ Phil sprang to his feet, eyes wide as he surveyed his own living room. The empty bottles of scotch and messy packets of snacks were gone from the floor. Even the most unnoticed corners of his living room were unstained and immaculate, and he blinked in dubiety, wondering if he had accidentally entered someone else's home. The winged boy had slipped from his mind entirely, but the unusual neatness around the room made Phil undeniably alert. With confusion clouding his mind, he stepped towards his kitchen.

As he neared the kitchen, he heard soft little noises, a bit like the sniffles of a child. Frowning, he increased his pace, his confusion soaring with every step he took.

The state of the kitchen was the exact opposite of the living room. Everything was in complete shambles. The stove was on; a pot was placed on top of it. There was a vomit-inducing smell of burnt food in the air, and unskillfully cut vegetables littered the counter and floor. Rushing in panic, Phil turned the stove off, peering into it sceptically. There were oddly cut vegetables, bread crumbs and other indistinguishable items floating on top of what looked like someone's diarrhoea.

Phil crinkled his nose in disgust, almost gagging as he turned away. He blinked in surprise when he saw the winged boy sitting on the floor in front of him, knees pulled tightly to his chest and shimmery black wings engulfing him from both sides.

Phil was immediately alarmed. Concern invaded his heart, and he rushed towards Dan, dropping to his knees and placing his hand on Dan's shoulder. “Hey, are you alright?” he inquired worriedly. “What happened?”

Dan's eyes were red-rimmed, and he looked defeated. He was quiet, hands hidden between his legs and chest. “What's wrong?” Phil repeated cautiously, “What happened? What were you trying to do?” Dan bit his lip, eyes downcast and guilty. Phil gestured to the mess in the kitchen. “What is all this?”

Silence was all he got in return, and he chewed on his bottom lip doubtfully. “Did you clean my living room?”

Dan said nothing and suspicion nagged at the back of Phil's mind. He turned to the stove and frowned. “Did you try to cook?”

Dan bit his lip, silent and regretful. Phil stared at him, not knowing what to do. “Why? Were you hungry?” Dan turned away but shook his head just a little, eyes sad and lonely. Phil felt a strange emotion coil around his heart. “Was it . . . was it for me?”

Dan swallowed visibly, avoiding Phil's eyes and staying quiet, lips pursed. Phil sighed softly as he stared at a guilty-looking Dan. All of a sudden, the boy's sudden appearance in his home made sense. He could've been wrong but all of the boy's actions pointed towards one thing . . .

“Don't tell me you . . . ” Phil sighed, fingers squeezing Dan's shoulder. He felt like he knew what this boy was trying to do. “Are you trying to pay me back for helping you?”

Dan lowered his gaze, but he gave Phil a tiny nod. Phil furrowed his eyebrows. “Is that why you're here?”

Another hesitant nod, and Phil's heart melted a little. He smiled kindly, feeling sad for the boy. “You don't have to do that,” he comforted gently. “I helped you because I wanted to. I don't want anything in return.”

Dan remained quiet, and Phil analysed his whole face. He looked soft and pretty, with beautiful black wings, flushed face, glossy cheeks and wide, earthy brown eyes; he looked like an angel. Phil breathed softly and tried to look away, but his eyes wandered to his shabby, worn-out T-shirt and immediately stilled. “What–” With shocked eyes, Phil pried Dan's hand away from where he was hiding them, gaping at the burns and cuts and blood all over his palm. “What the fuck?” He breathed in shock. “Why would you do this?”

Dan dropped his gaze to the floor shamefully. He looked small and vulnerable, like he was expecting to be berated, and Phil felt strangely sad for the boy. “Hey . . .” he murmured, “What were you thinking? If you don't know how to cook, why would you . . .” Phil trailed off and sighed sorrowfully.

“I'm sorry,” Dan whispered in a small, guilty voice.

Phil sighed deeply, holding Dan's hands delicately in his own. He couldn't help but stare at the strange boy. He was one of them, one of the winged men. A creature of the night, a creature that drank human blood. They were regarded as a deadly threat to human societies. According to government sources, they were short-tempered, violent, beastly creatures, and yet . . . yet this boy was the most fragile being Phil had ever seen.

Louise would probably scold him if she knew, but Phil's heart told him to help the boy. Determined by his new resolution, Phil stood up. “Come with me.”

Dan trailed behind him meekly towards the sink, cradling his wounded hands close to his chest. Phil reached back and guided Dan's hands under the tap, letting water trickle down his hands. Dan flinched, and Phil murmured a quiet, “It's alright.”

Phil led him to his bedroom and made him sit on the bed, quickly dashing away to grab his first-aid box. When he rushed back into the room, he crouched down next to Dan and took his hands into his own, opening the disinfectant solution. He gently dabbed the wounds with a small ball of cotton, overly aware of Dan's awed stare. “Don't do this again, okay?” he murmured, glancing at Dan's innocent face. “I don't want you to hurt yourself.”

Dan bit his lip and remained quiet. Phil continued with a huff, “A simple ‘Thank you’ would've sufficed. How stupid can you get?” Putting down the disinfectant, he uncapped the antiseptic cream, cautious and gentle in his movements. “Why did you come here? You could get hurt. You don't know me. You don't know what kind of person I am. How can you trust me? You're very naive, aren't you, Dan?”

Dan blinked at him, open-mouthed and astonished. His wings slowly rose from its crumpled state and fluttered just a little, as if excited. Unsure of why it was happening, Phil chose to ignore it. He applied antiseptic medicine on Dan's wounds carefully and talked quietly. “You shouldn't go into a stranger's house,” he said in a soft, calm voice, genuinely concerned. “Don't ever do that. You should be more careful, okay?”

“Okay,” Dan nodded with wide eyes, wings flapping furiously and quickly now. His cheeks were red and flushed, and there was a mesmerized look in his eyes.

“Good,” Phil answered slowly, bandaging his wounded fingers. He inspected it closely and frowned. “You injured your fingers pretty badly. You're a little stupid, aren't you?” Phil suppressed the urge to smile, but Dan's awed expression turned into a sulky pout, and Phil cracked a grin. “I'm joking.”

Phil closed his first-aid box and deposited it on his nightstand, quietly settling himself next to Dan. “Your hands will heal in a few hours,” he assured Dan. “You'll be fine.”

Phil lifted his gaze from Dan's hands to his face and smiled kindly. Dan stared at him with those wide, awed brown eyes and blushed, dropping his gaze to the floor. His wings immediately started flapping quickly and noisily behind his back.

Phil blinked in confusion, glancing at his incessantly fluttering wings. “Is something wrong?” He tilted his head and frowned.

Dan bit his lip, a dark blush on his cheeks. He slowly stopped fluttering his wings, sitting quietly and rigidly in his seat. “You're weird,” Phil told him with a confused smile.

Dan turned to frown at him. “No, you're weird.”

“No, I'm not,” Phil huffed and let out a soft sigh. “Anyway, you don't have to pay me back for anything. It's fine. You can go home.” Phil stood up and looked down. “I'll make you some tea and then you should be on your way. Come on.”

Dan shuffled behind him timidly, nervous fingers fumbling with the hem of his loose, over-sized T-shirt. His wings were raised behind his back, and he knocked Phil's things to the floor as he padded through the living room.

Phil looked back quickly and heaved a huge, exasperated sigh, staring at the mess of black feathers and broken items on the floor. “Lower it,” he urged, “Lower your wings.”

Dan looked back and blinked at the mess. “Sorry,” he murmured, grabbing his wings and waddling awkwardly behind Phil.

Phil firmly ignored the disastrous state of his kitchen, quietly putting the dirty pot in the sink and stepping over random pieces of vegetables on the floor.

As he prepared tea, Dan hobbled around the kitchen and stared at things, poking random utensils and peering into the kettle dubiously. He followed Phil around and knocked into things, sending random items crashing to the floor and making even more of a mess.

Phil huffed exasperatedly and grabbed his arm, making Dan blush. He forced him to a chair and ordered, “Sit, and don't move.”

Dan blushed, staring at the place where Phil was holding him. “Okay,” he nodded obediently, blinking his long eyelashes at Phil.

When Phil finally placed a cup of tea in front of Dan, he squirmed in his seat and stared at his hands guiltily, his bandaged fingers as thin as sticks. “What's wrong?” Phil asked, feeling a little bad for scolding him.

“I'm sorry,” Dan murmured apologetically, looking vulnerable and guilty.

Phil immediately felt bad. It wasn't his fault that he had large wings. He sighed softly. “It's okay. Don't worry about it.”

Dan nodded mutely, raising his cup and drinking from it. He immediately spluttered, “I want more sugar, please.”

Phil huffed but fulfilled his request. Dan took another sip, and he immediately brightened, throwing Phil a full-blown grin, with sparkling eyes and adorable little dimples. “Thank you,” he murmured politely, gulping down his tea.

Phil's gaze softened for some reason, and he gave him an amused smile back. “You're welcome.”

Time seemed to be flowing slowly, quietly. The quiet _tap tap tap_ of rain against his window panes filled his ears, and as the warm tea dripped down his throat, Phil felt weirdly at peace. The atmosphere inside was dark and stormy as they sat alone in the silent kitchen. Phil found himself enjoying the company of the strange boy.

“Why were you starving yourself?” Phil asked, regretting it immediately. It was a personal question that he ought to stop asking.

Dan stilled immediately, staring at his cup silently. He was quiet for a long time, and Phil sighed. “I'm sorry for asking. You don't have to tell me.”

Dan bit his lip, fingers tightening around his cup. Phil glanced at his rigid posture and said, “Finish your tea. You should leave as soon as possible. It's not safe.” He adjusted his glasses and took a sip of his tea. “If Hunters find you around here, they'll arrest you.”

Dan looked up and frowned. “Hunters?”

“Yeah.” Phil nodded, pushing back his glasses. “I have friends who live next door. They're Hunters. It's not safe for you to be here.”

“Who are Hunters?” he asked, looking genuinely confused.

Phil's eyebrows rose in surprise. “You don't know about Hunters?”

Dan shook his head left and right, blinking in confusion. Phil frowned. “That's odd,” he admitted suspiciously, but still explained, “Hunters are special police force trained in dealing with you guys. They keep us safe from violent attacks of winged men. In short, they catch people like you and lock you up in isolation cells.”

He glanced at a wide-eyed Dan who was listening carefully with rapt attention. Doubts were starting to creep into Phil's mind. It couldn't be a mere coincidence. This boy was different from other winged men, so different that it was suspicious and concerning.

On top of that, he didn't seem to know even the most basic rules and regulations of human society. He was unaware of the existence of Hunters, and that was impossible to comprehend. Curiosity was clawing at him. Who was Dan? Where did he come from? Why was he so different?

Phil watched Dan closely after revealing that information, eye twitching when Dan simply blinked at him innocently. Slightly unhinged by the lack of any type of reaction, Phil prodded, “Have you ever seen a Hunter before?”

Dan shook his head, and Phil sighed. “Well, you're lucky. Trust me, you don't want to meet one,” he said honestly. “Get back to your home, okay? Don't get injured again. Take care of yourself, do you understand?”

Dan's eyes were a clear, glossy brown, staring at Phil in awe. Phil smiled, and Dan dropped his gaze to his cup in silence.

“You do have a home, right? A family?” Phil's guilt made him probe. “A place to stay?”

Dan didn't reply, and Phil repeated worriedly. “Do you have a place to stay, Dan?”

Dan nodded quietly, gulping down his tea. “Thank you for helping me,” he murmured silently.

“It's alright,” Phil smiled, “You don't have to thank me.”

Dan gave him a small smile, wings slowly fluttering behind his back. Phil glanced at his wings, and Dan immediately noticed, grabbing his wings with his hands and stopping their movement. Phil shook his head and smiled in confusion. “You're so weird.”


	6. The Missing Prince

Phil gazed at Dan silently, watching his mannerisms and expressions and studying him curiously. He had heard many rumours about winged people. He had read more than a dozen articles describing winged people as violent and temperamental, but Dan was not violent at all. He was quiet and shy and a little awkward. Phil wondered how many more misconceptions were there about winged people. This odd encounter with Dan had strengthened his resolution. He was now even more sure that winged people were not as cruel and wild as the government claimed them to be.

“Um,” Dan murmured, fidgeting with his cup and wings fluttering behind his back. “Stop staring at me.” Phil blinked. Dan glanced at him and looked away quickly. “Please,” he added nervously.

“Ah, sorry,” Phil sighed apologetically, “I have never seen a winged man this close before. It's a little disorienting.”

Dan nodded understandingly. “I–”

“Phil?” A cool voice drifted towards his ears. “Are you home?”

Knocking his chair aside and slamming his cup on the table, Phil leapt to his feet, wild-eyed and panicked. Dan blinked up at him through his eyelashes, soft hair curled over his forehead, eyes puzzled and questioning. “Get up!” Phil hissed urgently, skidding quickly around the table, hands already reaching out to pull Dan away. “Get up, quick!”

Eyes wide and afraid, Dan did as he was told, rising to his feet, wings fluttering behind his back. Phil's fingers wrapped around his left forearm, dragging him towards the door. “Fuck, you have to hide. You need to hide, but where–”

“Are you in the kitchen?” Chris's voice floated all the way across from the living room, tone cheerful and casual as always.

Phil stilled and swallowed, fingers tightening, heart sinking. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “Fuck.” With a thudding heart, he let go of Dan and murmured, “Stay here. Don't make a sound.”

Phil didn't look back as he hurried out of the kitchen and dashed through the corridor into the living room, nervous and panting. When he came to a stop in front of Chris, he knew he looked dishevelled and rumpled. Chris stared at him with a confused smile, face crumbling into a suspicious frown. “Is this not a good time?”

“Why are you here?” Phil cringed as soon as the words slipped out of his lips. He sounded defensive and angry. He sounded like someone who had something to hide.

Chris's frown deepened, his lips twitching up into a strange smile. “I came to meet PJ. I was leaving, but I just thought I'd drop in and talk to you about the novel.”

Phil swallowed and inhaled deeply, composing himself. “I, uh, I'm a bit busy right now. I, er, I'll call you when I have time.”

Chris raised an eyebrow doubtfully, glancing behind Phil. Phil tensed. “Hmm, alright. Okay. That's fine–” Phil sighed in relief. “–but I really want to know what you're hiding.”

Phil flinched and ran his hand through his hair, internally screaming at himself to calm down. “H-hiding?” He laughed nervously. “What do you mean?”

“I'm not an idiot, you know?” Chris grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. “So, sex in the kitchen, huh?” Chris elbowed him playfully. “Remind me not to eat there ever again.”

Chris let out a soft laugh, and with a confused blink, Phil let out a few nervous chuckles. “Yeah.”

Chris grinned teasingly. “Is he good-looking?”

Phil let out a breath and slowly tried to relax. There was a faint fluttering sound from the kitchen, and his heart jumped to his throat. “Yes, yeah, er, he is. Good-looking. Very. Hair! He has nice hair.” Phil stuttered out, feeling panicky and flustered. “And smile and dimples. Yes, I guess, he is very good-looking. Beautiful, actually.” Fuck, he was rambling now, and it was likely to raise more suspicions.

“Beautiful . . .” Chris arched his eyebrows, looking amused. “Smiles and dimples? That's what you noticed about a one night stand?” Shaking his head, Chris turned away. “Well, I'll leave you to it then. I apologize for interrupting–”

“That's–it's fine. You didn't know,” he interjected.

Phil followed him to the door, exchanging a few more pleasantries and forcing out a few laughs. When Chris finally said his goodbyes and left, Phil slammed the door shut and locked it, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

Phil re-entered the kitchen to find Dan standing at the centre, wide-eyed and cheerful, both hands placed on his head. Taking a step back in confusion, Phil asked, “Er, what are you doing?”

Dan lifted his gaze and stared at him with wide eyes. “Beautiful?” he murmured. “You said . . .”

A bit befuddled by the boy's perplexing behaviour and a little unnerved, Phil said in confusion, “Yeah, sorry about that,” He rubbed his neck awkwardly. “I didn't know what else to say.”

Dan blinked and gaped at Phil. His cheeks were a bright, glowing shade of red, and his eyes were awed and glazed over. He stood very still, as if in a daze, but his wings fluttered loudly and abruptly.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Phil demanded curtly, furrowing his eyebrows.

Dan blushed and beautiful little feathers flew in all directions, forming a messy clutter on the floor. Phil gaped at the mess with exhausted eyes, mind already sailing towards his bedroom where his unfinished novel still lay in a jumbled heap. He could think of a dozen half-done tasks off the top of his head that needed to be completed. He was, without a doubt, wasting his time, and also putting Dan's and his own life at risk. Why?

“You should leave,” Phil declared tartly, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “This is not safe for you . . . or me.”

Phil knew he was being too harsh, but he had had enough interactions with the boy to realize that he was not someone Phil would like to be involved with. Chris's arrival had opened his eyes. This was far too risky. There was too much unknown about Dan. Too many variables for Phil to make a decision. It was certainly not safe to shelter a winged boy in his home. If someone were to find out and alert the right authorities, Phil could go to jail for endangering other people in the building.

Dan's smile slipped off his face almost instantly, and he stared at the floor, fumbling with his bandaged fingers. Phil let out an exasperated sigh, internally controlling himself. He was irritated and lethargic after a long, tedious day and this whole stupid situation was wearing him out. Why was this winged boy here? Phil was exhausted and did not wish to be involved any further than he already was.

Dan glanced at him worriedly. “I'm sorry.”

Phil was immediately hit with regret. “Look, don't apologize. It's not–I'm not–” Phil wore his glasses again and heaved a huge sigh. “I don't want to be rude to you. I don't want to do that, okay? I'm sorry. I just . . . I'm a little stressed. It's not safe for you to be here.”

Dan glanced at him through his eyelashes, biting his lip. He quietly snatched a biscuit from the plate on the dining table and offered it to Phil. “Biscuit?”

Phil blinked in surprise, staring at the biscuit and then at Dan. Dan gave him a bright smile, and Phil's heart melted. He couldn't bring himself to refuse. “Thanks,” he mumbled quietly, taking it from Dan's hands and popping it into his mouth. “You're so clueless. I don't know whether to laugh or cry.”

Dan frowned. “I'm not clueless.”

Phil chewed and swallowed the biscuit. “You are,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “You are very clueless.”

Dan glared at him, the innocent look and smile gone from his delicate face. “I'm not clueless,” he sulked, looking annoyed. “ _You_ are clueless!”

“Stubborn,” Phil announced, rolling his eyes. “You are also stubborn.”

“I'm not clueless, and I'm not stubborn!” Dan frowned at him. “I'm leaving!”

Dan glared wordlessly, whirling around and walking away. Phil stared after him. “Where are you going? Are you really leaving?” he asked hastily, scrambling to follow. In his hurry, he tripped over his own feet and went tumbling to the floor, hitting his forehead on a nearby chair.

“Fuck,” he cursed quietly, rubbing his head where he could already feel a small bruise forming. Sighing with exhaustion, he silently leapt back to his feet and padded over to his bedroom cautiously.

The window was open, and he could hear the quiet, calm voice of the rain outside. He switched on the light, but Dan was nowhere to be seen.

~*~

“Ugh, this headache is killing me,” PJ announced with a loud groan, striding into the living room and dashing past Phil who was lounging on his sofa, red-rimmed eyes fixated on the screen of his laptop. “You look awful, by the way,” he declared before disappearing into the depths of Phil's home, most certainly in search of pain killers. 

“Experiments . . . research . . . tests . . .” Phil muttered under his breath, pushing back his glasses and squinting his eyes. He was reading an article about Hunters. Most of it showed Hunters in a positive light, praising their bravery and valuable contributions. Only a mere few went into depth about the mystery surrounding their investigations. There were rumours about Hunters conducting tests and experiments on captive winged men, torturing them and cutting their wings, but there was no reliable information to prove it.

“What's up with you? You look like you just crawled out of a coffin,” PJ pointed out, popping a pill into his mouth and drinking water from his mug. Phil ignored him completely, focusing on the article he was reading instead.

PJ stayed silent as he turned on the telly and slumped back on the sofa, sprawling on it luxuriously. “Heard from Chris that you got a new boyfriend,” PJ teased with a smirk, flicking through different channels.

“You heard wrong,” Phil mumbled without looking up, pushing back his glasses.

“What? You got dumped already?” PJ taunted playfully, switching to a news channel and placing the remote on his chest.

Phil lifted his leg and kicked PJ's shin, rolling his eyes. PJ flinched and let out a laugh, turning his focus towards the television. Minutes passed in silence. The only noise in the room was of the news anchor droning on and on about the King of Winged Men and a missing Prince. Phil suddenly remembered in the back of his mind that winged men didn't have democracy yet. Most of them were still traditional and followed their King.

“Phil? Is PJ here?” Anthony, PJ's roommate, asked, parading into his home joyously like always. He glided past Phil and PJ, rushing straight to the kitchen. “I'm starving. Do you have food?”

With an exasperated shake of his head, Phil finally sighed, taking off his glasses and leaning back. He closed his dry eyes, massaging his forehead with his right hand. “I'm tired.”

“You look like you died and went to heaven,” Anthony told him when he returned, taking a bite out of his apple and tossing another one to PJ. “And they kicked you out.”

“Thanks,” Phil muttered, putting on his glasses again. 

“Missing Prince,” Anthony commented thoughtfully, plopping down beside PJ, his attention on the news. “He's probably dead.”

“Murdered, most likely,” PJ muttered under his breath.

Phil turned away and tuned out the rest of their conversation, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. He had been feeling restless and agitated all week, examining and analysing any information about winged men he could find. It had been a whole week since he had told Dan to leave, and he still regretted that decision. For some unknown reason, he couldn't stop thinking about Dan. Perhaps, it had been the wrong thing to do. The boy was weak and fragile, desperately in need of help. Phil should've let him stay. Phil should've done more.

“Phil?” PJ stated worriedly. “Are you alright? I'm not joking this time. You look really tired.”

Phil opened his eyes quietly and stared at the ceiling, closing his laptop. Anthony grabbed the remote from PJ's hands and lowered the volume, gazing in concern. “Did something happen?”

Phil huffed, sighing deeply before sitting up and facing them. “It's just . . .” He chewed on his bottom lip, contemplating on how to phrase the question in a way that didn't raise suspicions. “I'm curious about something. About your, uh, your job.”

PJ blinked and his eyes narrowed. Phil could see his posture changing from relaxed to something more alert, _aware._ “What do you mean?”

Phil carded his fingers through his hair, forcing himself to sound casual and not overly interested. “What do you do, exactly?” he asked tentatively. “Where do you go . . . at night? You're Hunters, right? What do you–”

“We keep you safe,” PJ interjected sharply, tone a little curious. “You know that. Our main job, _duty_ , is to protect people from rogue attacks.”

“But there are no attacks,” Phil disagreed. “Winged men live in hiding. They barely come out even though they are allowed to come out at midnight. Why arrest them for being outside like normal people? What's the point?”

“Phil, you live in a bubble,” PJ remarked with a roll of his eyes. “They do attack sometimes. I admit lately there have been very few attacks, but we can't take any risks.” He sighed softly. “Yes, it's true that winged men are kind of allowed to come out at midnight, but who cares about that? There are very few winged men left. Fuck the law. We need to arrest them all one by one. It'll get rid of them quickly. That's why we patrol the streets at night. Our main job is to protect this city.”

“Usually, we just walk around at night with a torch. That's the only thing we do, to be honest,” Anthony affirmed with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Streets are usually empty after 6 O'clock. People stay indoors because they are afraid of winged men, and winged men also stay indoors because they're afraid of us. It's weird, I admit.”

Phil furrowed his eyebrows curiously and nodded, “What about experiments? Do you really–”

“No, you idiot.” PJ rolled his eyes. “We're not conducting experiments, if that's what you're asking.” Anthony cackled at the disappointed look on Phil's face. “This is not a movie, Phil.”

“Don't tell me you've been watching those ridiculous conspiracy theory videos on YouTube,” Anthony grinned teasingly. 

“Ah,” PJ raised his eyebrows, his shoulders relaxing swiftly. “So that's what this is.”

“No!” Phil denied incredulously, embarrassed. “I didn't, I swear–” 

Anthony rolled his eyes and turned the volume back up. They turned their attention back to the news about a missing King–or was it Prince? Phil couldn't bring himself to care. He huffed in irritation and went back to reading his interesting article.

~*~

“Anthony?” Phil exclaimed in surprise, opening the door fully. “Is something wrong? You just left.” 

Phil gazed at Anthony who was fully dressed up in his Hunter uniform, advanced equipments and gadgets strapped to his waist. Phil recognized a specialized tranquilizer and a gun, but he had never seen the other three small devices before. Anthony cleared his throat, and Phil lifted his gaze to Anthony's face. “Sorry. Did you forget something?”

“Yeah. Can't find my phone,” he huffed, scratching his head and dashing past Phil. “Dammit. I'm already late.”

Phil sighed exasperatedly and folded his arms over his chest, waiting by the door for his return. 

“Found it!” Anthony cheered after a few minutes of shuffling and stomping and rummaging. He marched back to Phil, holding up his phone with a grin. “Sorry for waking you up at midnight.”

“It's fine,” Phil dismissed with a wave of his hand. “I wasn't asleep anyway.”

“Staying up late and watching conspiracy videos?” Anthony laughed, walking out to the corridor. 

“I swear that's not it,” Phil said earnestly. “I wasn't–”

“Listen, Phil,” Anthony interrupted, tone solemn, face suddenly serious. “I know you want to help winged people.” Phil blinked, surprised by the sombre look on his friend's face. “I get it. I do. But it's just not possible. You know that.”

Phil dropped his gaze to the floor, mind wandering to the soft face of Dan. He knew he should say something to defend winged men, but he knew it would be pointless to argue. “Yeah,” he whispered quietly.

Anthony placed a warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. “I'm not supposed to tell you this, but there have been a few reports of a winged man down the street. According to witnesses, he's been there for over a month. You should be careful. Close all windows and doors. They usually don't enter someone's house but we can't be sure.” 

“What?” Phil's breath stuttered immediately, and his mind reeled.

Anthony sighed. “Don't be scared. I heard he's weak and skinny. We'll catch him soon.”

Phil gaped at Anthony. Dan's face popped into his mind irresistibly, and in a desperate attempt to control his panic, he breathed deeply and stood very still. Could it be Dan? Could it be . . . No, that was not possible. Maybe it was another winged man. Maybe it was just a mere coincidence. 

“We don't know why he's lurking around here. He might be planning to attack someone. We can never know,” Anthony explained elaborately. “They are not good people, okay? I just want you to understand that. It's better to be safe than sorry.”

“Y-yeah,” Phil replied absently, his mind running a million miles a minute. He couldn't get rid of Dan's innocent face from his mind. His nervous gaze flitted to the holster strapped to Anthony's waist, and his heart sank. It had to be Dan. It was Dan. Who else could it be? Fuck. “Yeah, you're right. They do hurt people.” Phil's lips were moving, but he wasn't aware of the words leaving his mouth. “I, uh, I understand. I was just c-curious. I don't care about them. It's good that they're dying out.”

Anthony smiled, pleased. “Good, I'm glad you understand,” he said, glancing at his watch. “Shit. I need to go.”

Anthony waved his hand and hurried down the corridor. Phil's eyes followed him until he disappeared down the stairs, and with a shaking hand, he closed the door, staring at it quietly. “Fuck,” Phil swallowed in fear. “I told that idiot to go home.”

Worry clouded his logicality, and his brain was full of unmistakable concern as he trudged back to his living room in a state of stupor. Biting his lip, he sat down on the sofa, feet bouncing restlessly, hands entwined tightly as he stared at the coffee table. “Dammit,” he muttered under his breath. “Why didn't he go home?”

If the mysterious winged man turned out to be Dan, and if he was found there in that alleyway, he would either be shot or tranquilized. Phil didn't yet know what the Hunters did to the winged men they captured, but he wasn't too keen on finding out. Phil regretted being selfish and asking Dan to leave, now more than ever. He had been scared of repercussions, afraid of the inevitable consequences that would surely follow.

Although Phil had not spent that much time with Dan, he knew Dan was harmless. He wasn't a threat. He would never attack or hurt anyone. He was skinny and weak and dying _because_ he refused to hurt anyone.

Phil chewed on his bottom lip, guilt clogging his throat, but a plan already forming in his mind. He stood up and paced back and forth, thinking silently and cautiously. Maybe it wasn't Dan. It could be some other winged man, but if it was . . . Phil's throat closed up. He couldn't bring himself to abandon Dan.

Without giving it a second thought, Phil stomped towards the door, his hands shaky with fear but determined. He pulled the door open and quickly skidded down the corridor.


	7. Don't Leave Me

The streets were empty as expected, the roads lonely and deserted, devoid of automobiles and people. Phil's tatty, old shoes scuffed the bleak pavement as he trudged towards the familiar alleyway. The stench of blood drifted to his nostrils, and the hollow silence floated like wind in the air. Checking his left and right with wide, nervous glances, he crossed the road quickly with quiet footsteps.

“Dammit,” he cursed silently, tripping over a chipped piece of concrete. His breaths flowed out of his mouth in visible, white puffs as he hurried down the street.

Stomping footsteps and shuffling noises pierced the silence, forcing Phil into awareness. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, huffing quietly as he teetered into a dark, dirty alley, hiding there in silence for several never-ending minutes.

“It's too dark,” someone groaned, sounding frustrated. “I can't see. We've been searching for _hours._ Let's take a break.”

“Shut up and search the area, Ethan,” another person muttered angrily. _Hunters._ “Don't defy Commander's orders.”

Phil tapped his feet on the ground impatiently, folding his arms across his chest nervously and waiting for them to leave. He had no specific reason to fear or hide from Hunters, but in this particular circumstance, he had no other choice. If they caught him lurking uselessly at night, he would be asked to co-operate and assisted back home. If he declined, he would most probably be arrested for refusing to comply with the law. According to the law, he should've been at home anyway.

The Hunters disappeared around the corner in a few minutes, and their footsteps faded away into the distance. Phil marched forward, jumping over a filthy puddle of water. He hurried down the street with rapid strides and turned a grubby corner, entering the familiar alleyway.

Phil analysed the narrow passage with squinted eyes but saw nothing. The atmosphere was quiet and despondent, ominous, black clouds drifting through the night sky. The mellow light of the streetlights poured into the narrow path, illuminating the cracked concrete and grimy walls.

Phil sighed in relief and his shoulders relaxed. The alley was empty. Dan wasn't here. Dan was somewhere safe.

A quiet little sneeze caught Phil completely off guard, and his eyes widened in shock. Blinking in realization, he tottered over to the garbage bins stacked against the wall, hurrying past it in concern. Weak, feeble coughs reached his ears, and his eyes widened when he saw Dan lying on the dirty concrete floor, shivering and shaking violently in the cold night air.

Phil gazed in disbelief for a few, fragile moments and dropped to the ground quickly, placing a warm hand on Dan's skinny shoulders. He appeared thinner than before, his delicate face deathly pale and sickly. His cheeks had no colour, and his lips were tinted blue due to the cold, his wings crumpled and dull behind his back.

Sympathy and regret crept into Phil's heart, worry invading his mind. “Dan,” he murmured softly, his heart breaking for the poor boy. “Hey, are you okay?”

Dan was curled into a ball on the cold ground, his whole body trembling vehemently as he lay there. Phil chewed on his bottom lip anxiously and shook Dan's shoulders. “Dan,” he said in concern, biting his lip and looking left and right. “Dan, you need to wake up.”

Shivering and his teeth chattering, Dan slowly fluttered his eyes open, looking drowsy and ill as he coughed. “What are you still doing here?” Phil asked quietly in a hushed whisper, rubbing Dan's back in a soothing manner as he coughed.

“Phil?” Dan blinked up at him repeatedly, fluttering his long eyelashes in utter confusion.

“Yeah, it's me,” Phil huffed. “You shouldn't be here, you idiot. Why can't you go home?”

Dan coughed and whispered in a weak voice, “I'm not an idiot.”

Phil rolled his eyes, ready to argue, but Dan grabbed on to his T-shirt with shaky fingers, clinging to him like a lost child. “Warm,” he mumbled drowsily, his eyes falling shut automatically and his head dropping against Phil's chest.

Phil's heart sank, heavy with remorse and guilt. “You don't have a home, do you?” he asked, swallowing the sudden sadness choking his throat.

Dan tensed against him. “I . . . I do,” he muttered meekly.

“Stop lying,” Phil hissed, removing his sweater and wrapping it around Dan's shivering body. “I can tell.”

Dan coughed again, looking frail and unwell as he pulled back. “I'm not lying. I have . . . a home . . . f-far away,” he slurred, “far . . . far a-away . . .”

“You're delirious,” Phil huffed and swallowed in concern. He placed a gentle hand on Dan's cheek, flinching slightly. “Fuck, you're burning up,” he mumbled worriedly, eyes darting around to scan the area. “You have a fever.”

“Phil,” Dan murmured drowsily, dropping his head against Phil's chest again and going limp in his arms. “Am I dead?”

“No, you're not,” Phil said softly, “You'll be fine.”

Dan's breathing was shallow. “Leave me.”

“What?”

“Leave me,” Dan croaked, but his fingers curled tightly around the thin fabric of Phil's T-shirt. “Let me die.”

“Don't be an idiot,” Phil murmured, “I didn't risk my life and come here to watch you die.”

Dan stilled and coughed, staying silent for several minutes. Phil sighed softly. “You'll be alright,” he reassured Dan. “I promise.”

Dan didn't move, staying still and quiet, his eyes closed tightly.

“Dan,” Phil shook him nervously, wrapping his arms around the trembling, barely conscious boy. He didn't respond, and Phil chewed on his bottom lip. Clouds floated away overhead, revealing the bright, glowing moon. Phil stared up at the night sky and swallowed in trepidation, hands tightening around the sick and weak winged boy. “Come on, Dan. Hold on just a little while longer, okay? I'll take you back to my apartment.”

Phil sighed deeply in distress, eyes flitting across the alley in unease and perturbation. “Can you walk, Dan?” he spoke in a small, unsettled voice. “Come on, I'll help you up.”

“Warm,” Dan finally breathed, making himself small and burrowing into Phil's chest.

“Hold on.” Phil nudged Dan and pulled his bony arm over his shoulder, sliding a supporting hand across his waist and cautiously guiding him to his feet. He was frail and thin and utterly weightless. He looked like a living, breathing skeleton and Phil's heart clenched, anger sizzling beneath his skin. Why were people hurting these majestic creatures? They were an undeniable part of nature. What right did humans have to go against nature?

Dan murmured something incomprehensible, head dropping to Phil's shoulder. “Did you say something?” Phil frowned.

Dan pouted, his head lolling sideways. He was barely conscious and mumbling nonsense. “You c-called me an idiot,” he sniffed.

Phil suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “Is that what you're worried about right now?”

Dan sneezed and his eyes drooped. “I d-don't like you.”

“That's okay. You don't have to like me.” Phil sighed deeply and half-carried, half-dragged Dan towards the street. Dan's eyes fluttered shut, and his knees wobbled, making Phil frown worriedly.

“Come on, Dan. You can do this. Hold on,” Phil whispered in encouragement, and Dan's wings fluttered just a little. He panted heavily but trudged forward slowly, blinking repeatedly to keep his eyes open.

“It hurts,” Dan sniffed as he walked, his hollow cheeks and ghostly face prominent in the low, yellowish light of the streetlamps. “Phil.”

“I'm here,” Phil responded, heart pounding in his chest as they stumbled onto an empty street. “You need blood, Dan. You're weak.”

“N-no,” he panted out, “No.”

“You are a winged man,” Phil muttered tartly. “Aren't you supposed to be, I don't know, dangerous? Uncontrollable? Thirsty for blood?”

Phil couldn't understand it. He couldn't comprehend why Dan was starving himself or why he was constantly refusing blood. Blood was his food. It was not a choice. It was a necessity. Why was he doing this to himself? “Why are you doing this to yourself?” he asked bluntly. “You're not normal.”

“You're not normal,” Dan slurred.

Phil opened his mouth to protest, but when he really thought about what he was doing, he couldn't bring himself to deny it. “I guess not.”

Phil didn't get enough time to ponder on the thought as they neared a corner. Dan coughed incessantly, his breathing heavy and wheezing. Phil's hold on him tightened and his determination increased tenfold.

“Who's there?” Footsteps echoed throughout the bleak street, and Phil's heart leapt to his throat, beating ferociously.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he chanted under his breath as he rushed into another narrow alleyway, dragging Dan with him. There was no time to think and no time to help. Phil abruptly shoved Dan behind a garbage bin and Dan's head thumped against the wall, an unexpected groan of pain leaving his lips. Eyes wide and heart pounding, Phil clamped a hand over Dan's mouth. “Quiet,” he hissed fearfully, breathing roughly. “Listen to me.”

Dan squeezed his eyes shut and rested his head back against the wall, hands and legs limp on the ground. His skin was burning hot and he was shivering violently in the cold air. Phil swallowed and murmured, “I'll be back in a minute. Stay here and keep quiet.”

Dan's eyes flew open at that, and he launched forward, grabbing on to Phil's T-shirt with desperate fingers. “Don't leave me,” he whispered in a broken voice, his eyes huge and afraid.

Phil stared at his wide brown eyes and swallowed, pulling both of Dan's hands away from his T-shirt. “I'm not going anywhere,” he murmured softly. “Don't worry.”

Phil whirled around and stalked away without waiting for a reply. His breaths were heavy, gasping, flowing out of his lips in nervous pants. The heels of his shoes squeaked aloud as he trudged to the end of the alley and leaned over to look.

“Did you hear that?” one of the men asked, eyebrows furrowed and alert, hand on the holster. The same Hunters he had encountered before were standing a few feet away, patrolling the area.

“What now, Ethan?” his partner asked in an irritated voice, rolling his eyes.

Ethan was a tall, muscular guy with sandy blonde hair and dark brown eyes. His face was kind but stern, and there was an air of nonchalance around him. As Phil watched, his sharp gaze lifted from the ground and scanned the street. Phil lurched back, taking an unsteady breath. “Hey, I'm going to go check that alley over there. I think I heard something.”

“Ethan, we just checked there,” his partner chastised. “Don't waste my time. We need to go. We have work to do.”

Ethan didn't reply, but footsteps came closer and closer. Phil's heart plummeted and he clenched his hands into tight fists. He knew what he had to do. Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, Phil shuffled away from the dirty wall and strode out of his hiding place, pushing down the panic that rose from his throat and revealing himself.

Doing his best to appear casual, he blinked and pretended to be surprised. “Oh, uhm, hello.”

Both of the men in front of him gasped and their hands went straight to their holster, eyes wide. Phil's hands flew up. “Sorry!” he apologized immediately.

“Oh, god. You scared the shit out of me,” Ethan breathed, hands falling limply by his sides. “What are you doing here? You should be at home.”

“Er, sorry,” Phil responded with an apologetic look on his face. His hands shook slightly, and he clenched them into fists. His brain was messy and there was no time to organize his jumbled thoughts. Trying his best, he spouted the first excuse he could come up with. “I'm coming back from my, uh, cousin's daughter's birthday party.”

Ethan's eyes narrowed, but his partner nodded in sympathy. “That's fine. Go home and don't repeat this mistake again. It's not safe.”

Phil's shoulders immediately relaxed and he let out a relieved breath. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Do you want us to escort you back home?” he asked kindly.

Phil blinked and instantly refused, “No. No, that's fine. I live nearby. I live, uh–” His gaze flicked across the street in panic, swiftly landing on a plain, old house. “I live over there!”

“Oh, okay,” The man nodded and shrugged. Ethan was still staring at him with a look of suspicion. His partner placed a hand on his shoulder. “Let's go.”

Ethan's doubtful gaze was fixed on Phil, and he gulped, a trickle of sweat running down his back. _Fuck._ “Yeah,” Ethan finally turned away. “Let me check that alley and we can–”

“Oh, I just came from there. It's empty,” Phil said nonchalantly and sidestepped Ethan, walking away with his heart in his throat. “I should go. Bye, guys.” _Please work. Please work._ _Please work._

Phil trod carefully and quietly towards the house which was supposed to be his home, closing his eyes and taking in a shuddering breath. Ignoring the urge to turn back and look, he stared straight ahead, ears twitching to listen to the conversation happening behind him.

“You heard him,” the other guy was saying, “Stop wasting my time. Come on. Let's go.”

“Alright, fine,” Ethan grumbled impatiently. “I'm just doing my job.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up,” the guy murmured as they walked away.

When the sound of their footsteps faded and their figures became distant shadows, Phil halted in his tracks. He whirled around, eyes scanning the empty street. There were no more interruptions in his way. He took a deep, relieved breath and hurried back to Dan's aid.

~*~

Dan curled into a ball on the bed, shivering and shaking, making distressed little noises. Phil wrapped the blanket tightly around him and brushed his hair back, gently placing his palm against Dan's forehead. “You have a fever,” he murmured quietly, “Probably because you were sleeping outside in the cold.”

Dan's teeth chattered, and he sniffed, breathing with difficulty. “I'm sorry.”

“Why?” Phil furrowed his eyebrows in concern, chewing on his bottom lip. He had somehow managed to drag Dan home, but his condition only appeared to worsen. Dan was almost delirious, spouting out incomprehensible sentences that only managed to stress Phil even more.

“I said–” Dan whispered quietly, his eyes closed. “I s-said I didn't like you.”

“It's fine,” Phil sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Stop worrying about pointless things.”

“I lied.”

Phil blinked repeatedly and shrugged. “Okay.”

“Phil,” Dan breathed deliriously. 

“What?”

Dan sniffed and rolled onto his side. “Will you make me tea?”

“Yeah, but not right now. Maybe in the morning,” he answered, taking off Dan's shoes.

“With lots of sugar?”

Phil sighed. “Yeah.”

“And biscuits?”

“Yeah,” he replied, removing his socks and sighing in exhaustion. “You're a handful, aren't you?”

“I'm not,” he coughed. There was a moment of silence before he spoke up again. “Phil.”

Phil bit his lip. On top of everything, Dan seemed to have developed a specific liking for Phil, and he didn't quite know what to do about it. “Yes, that is my name. You don't have to repeat it,” he responded calmly. “Do you need anything?”

Dan sneezed, sniffing quietly. “I'm scared.”

“It's just a fever, Dan,” he comforted softly. He placed a reassuring hand on Dan's shoulder. “You'll be fine, okay?”

“Okay,” Dan murmured sleepily, eyes still closed.

Phil sighed and straightened up, quietly leaving the room. He ambled slowly to his bedroom and swiftly grabbed an extra duvet from his closet, bringing it back to the spare bedroom that Dan was sleeping in. He spread it over a sleeping Dan and wrapped him in it, making sure not to disturb the position of his wings behind his back. 

Phil wasn't sure if winged men could ingest human medicines, and he sighed in helplessness as he checked Dan's temperature again. Deciding to do what he could, Phil strolled into his kitchen and brought back an icepack, placing it on Dan's burning forehead.

Dan was already fast asleep, curled into a ball on the bed.

“Good night,” Phil mumbled at last, turning off the lights and quietly closing the door. He knew he would be too worried to sleep so he ambled into his kitchen quietly. Pouring himself a glass of whiskey, he huffed and wondered what he was doing. Bringing a winged boy into his home was risky and dangerous, and even more so if he began to get attached. This was a ridiculous, reckless decision nevertheless, but for some reason, Phil couldn't regret what he had done.

Phil sighed deeply, dropping back into the chair and taking a long sip from his glass. He licked his lips silently and watched as the liquid sloshed around in the transparent glass. “I'm fucked,” he murmured to himself.


	8. What is his story?

Phil awoke unceremoniously to the sound of fluttering wings and things being knocked to the floor. Confused due to his somnolence, he furrowed his eyebrows and sat up on his bed. He stretched his arms and limbs and let out a satisfied groan, scratching his head sleepily. The curtains were drawn, and the room was eerily dark, the morning chillness abundant in the air. He could tell that it was way too early to be up. Sighing deeply, he planted both of his feet on the floor and wandered over to the door.

Phil's head was burning and heavy, and he immediately regretted drinking half a bottle of whiskey the previous night. Sober now, he was in a state of utter disbelief over his own impetuous actions the night before. He usually didn't drink unless it was a celebration or a special occasion. He couldn't understand why he acted that carelessly.

Maybe everything that had happened in the past few days was just too much for his brain. Phil's life seemed to have deviated from it's usual course. He wasn't too pessimistic, but being a fairly imaginative writer, he believed he could never be a main character in any story. He was just another ordinary guy who led a normal, mundane life. He was never the type to be brave or courageous, and his actions the night before confused him tremendously. Why did he do that? He put his entire life at risk, and it was completely uncharacteristic of him.

“Dan?” Phil called, turning the doorknob and entering the room brusquely.

Phil's eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he saw the empty, unmade bed. Closing the door behind him, Phil hobbled over to the bed, blinking in surprise and wondering where Dan had gone in his weak, sickly state.

A small noise made him turn abruptly, and he let out a startled yelp when he saw Dan perched on top of the table, looking laughably aloof. Phil stared at him in stupefaction for a few, baffling moments and then blinked. “What are you doing over there? Come here,” he chastised incredulously with raised eyebrows.

Dan shrugged and stepped down, immediately swaying on his feet. His knees wobbled and his hands shot out to grip the edge of the wooden table. His large wings knocked the table lamp to the floor, bringing Phil's attention to the books, pen stand and other valuable items scattered all over the floor. Dan frowned and turned to examine what he had accidentally knocked over. Horrified by the mess and to reduce further damage, Phil shouted, “No, stop!”

Dan turned and ended up smashing the last remaining item on the table (an alarm clock) against the wall. Phil flinched. “Ugh.”

He sighed and pursed his lips, shaking his head. Dan's lips curled down in guilt and he lowered his head in shame, making himself appear as small as possible. “I'm sorry.”

Phil sighed. “You're like a cat.”

Dan blinked and frowned. “I'm not a cat.”

Phil huffed but didn't argue. He moved towards Dan, stepping over a dozen pens littered on the floor.

“Do I look like a cat?” Dan asked in confusion, frowning intensely.

Phil ignored him and leaned close. Dan stumbled back with wide eyes. Furrowing his eyebrows, he placed his palm against Dan's forehead. Dan stared at him, blinking repeatedly. His cheeks turned rosy pink and his wings flapped noisily.

“You still have a slight fever,” Phil mumbled contemplatively, removing his hand.

Dan stared at him with wide, innocent eyes full of admiration, and Phil raised his eyebrows. “What's wrong?”

“Um.” Dan blinked and the look was gone. “Nothing.”

Phil nodded, and Dan frowned. “Why did you call me a cat?”

Phil rolled his eyes in exasperation and slid an arm around Dan's waist, startling him. “Get back to bed. You need rest.”

“I'm fine,” Dan said stubbornly. “Why would you call me a cat?”

Phil didn't answer. He guided Dan towards the bed, but Dan's steps were unsteady and weak. He stumbled once and blushed in embarrassment, leaning heavily against Phil.

“What were you doing anyway?” Phil asked exasperatedly, releasing Dan slowly to the bed. “You need rest.”

“Thank you,” Dan whispered in a quiet, meek voice, avoiding Phil's eyes. “But don't call me a cat.”

Phil stared at him solemnly, lips pursed into a thin line. Finally, he let out a quiet huff and took a seat at the foot of the bed. “You really are stubborn, aren't you?” he muttered quietly. “Anyway, how are you feeling?”

Dan tensed. “I'm okay.”

Phil frowned. “You don't look okay.” Dan turned away from him abruptly and said nothing, making Phil stare in concern. “Look, you need blood.”

Dan swallowed. “No.”

“Aren't you supposed to attack me for blood?” Phil muttered and sighed. “I'm trying to help.”

“I don't want help,” Dan murmured.

Phil stared at him for a few seconds and huffed. “Is this about dying again?”

Dan stayed silent, and Phil didn't know what to say. He had never dealt with something as serious as this, and he had no idea what to do. “Look, you can't die in my house. If someone finds your dead body here, I'll get killed too,” he lied smoothly, “Do you want me to die?”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip. “No.”

“Then don't die,” Phil shrugged, gazing at him softly. “Okay?”

Silence enveloped them for several minutes, and Phil sat quietly, watching Dan stare at him with wide brown eyes.

All of a sudden, Dan's wonder-filled expression vanished and morphed into something more emotional, his gaze automatically drifting away from Phil. “Okay,” he whispered quietly, turning his back on Phil.

Phil sighed, gazing at Dan in morbid fascination. He was saddened by Dan's weak physical state but intrigued beyond belief by his stubborn disposition. Dan was seemingly prepared to die, and Phil couldn't help but wonder . . . why?

What was his story?

“What were you doing there? In the alley?” Phil asked softly, placing a hand on Dan's shoulder. He waited patiently for a reply, but it didn't come. Dan remained quiet, fumbling with his fingers nervously. Phil's mind was a whirlpool of curious questions, and he couldn't keep his interest hidden any longer. “Did you get kicked out of your house or something?”

Dan stilled and his body tensed. Phil narrowed his eyes and removed his hand. Minutes slipped by, and Dan didn't say a single word. Phil bounced his leg impatiently, a dozen worries and unsettling answers popping into his mind. All he felt was sympathy . . . and perhaps a little pity.

A quiet sniff caught Phil's attention. He leaned over cautiously and his eyes widened when he noticed the tears pooling in Dan's eyes. He was biting down on his bottom lip, trying hard not to cry. Phil's heart sank. “I didn't mean to make you cry,” he said instantly, worried. “I'm sorry, I–I didn't know. I'm sorry.”

Dan moved away from him and sat up, pulling his knees to his chest. He wrapped his wings around himself, hiding from Phil. Phil chewed on his bottom lip in concern. “Look, I'll make you something to eat. It's too early for breakfast though. Are you hungry? Do you want tea? Coffee?”

Dan's wings retracted just a little and he peeked at Phil doubtfully. “Biscuits?”

Phil nodded. “Yeah, I have biscuits.”

“The ones you gave me the last time I was here,” he asked quietly, hands wrapped around his legs.

Dan looked a little cute, and Phil gave him an amused smile. “Yeah.”

Phil should have gotten used to it by now, but it still startled him when Dan's wings began to flutter rapidly, scattering feathers everywhere. Phil sighed but let himself smile. “Calm down. It's just biscuits. There's one condition though,” he announced, “You have to clean this room.”

“Clean?” Dan asked, blinking his long eyelashes.

“Er . . . ” Phil's smile dropped slightly as he gazed at Dan, at his pink cheeks and curly hair . . . “Yeah, but that can wait. First, you need a shower and some clean clothes.”

~*~

Phil gripped the knife tightly in his hand, staring into the cup of tea he had made for Dan. He couldn't hear the water running in the shower anymore, and he sighed quietly, deciding to hurry up. He made a small cut on his palm and clenched his hand into a fist, gazing quietly as the blood dripped down into Dan's tea. 

Dan looked like a skeleton with his pale face and sunken cheeks and skinny figure. He could barely stand on his own, and his wings were losing feathers more than the last time he was here. No matter how many times Phil insisted, Dan refused blood like it was something disgusting and not his _food_. 

Quiet footsteps sounded from behind him, and Phil turned around to see Dan timidly padding over to him. He was wearing Phil's shabby T-shirt and pyjamas, curly hair wet and covering his forehead. His cheeks were glossy pink, and he looked like something out of a movie as he stepped towards Phil with an elegance Phil had never quite seen, with his large wings outstretched behind him, shining beautifully. 

Phil's jaw dropped, eyes wide and transfixed as he watched Dan silently. Dan shuffled around the table, and the moment didn't last. He lifted a hand and brushed a stray lock of hair, knocking the cereal box off the kitchen counter with his wings. Phil blinked and cleared his thoughts, composing himself and giving Dan a welcoming smile. Dan lowered his wings immediately and grabbed the cereal box, placing it back on the counter carefully, looking a little nervous.

“Hey, there,” Phil greeted cheerfully, gesturing for him to take a seat. Dan turned, and Phil blinked at the two giant holes on the back of his T-shirt. “You tore my shirt?”

Dan turned to him in confusion and looked back at his wings. “Oh, sorry. My wings didn't fit.”

Phil sighed and turned back, stirring his tea. “It's fine.”

Phil didn't hear any more sounds for a few minutes, and he worked quietly. He washed the little drops of blood off his hands and dried his hands with a towel. When he turned around, he saw Dan sat in front of the open fridge, peering into it in suspicion. As he watched, Dan poked his head into the fridge and frowned confusedly.

“What are you doing?” Phil asked in bewilderment.

“What is this?” Dan asked in confusion, pointing at the fridge.

“It's a fridge, Dan,” Phil said with a laugh. 

Dan peered into it doubtfully and poked his head into it again, furrowing his eyebrows. Phil huffed in exasperation and ambled towards him, sliding an arm around his waist and helping him up. Dan blinked at him, and Phil closed the fridge, guiding him back to the chair. “Sit,” he sighed.

Dan stared at him and nodded with wide, astonished eyes, his cheeks pink. “Okay.”

Phil placed the cup of tea in front of him and sat down in front of him with his own tea. “You're such a weirdo. Why don't you know what a fridge is?”

Dan bit his lip and fidgeted with his fingers. “Um, I've never seen a kitchen before.”

Phil raised his eyebrows. “Wow. I don't know how that is possible.”

Dan remained quiet, grabbing his cup and sipping his tea quietly. Phil watched him quietly for a few minutes, wondering who Dan was. Could it be that Dan was super rich?

“Lots of milk and too much sugar,” Phil mumbled quietly after a few minutes, watching with a fond smile as Dan slurped his tea eagerly. “Is that how you take your tea?”

Dan put his cup down with a small clatter and nodded. Phil shook his head disapprovingly. “It's not good for health.”

Dan furrowed his eyebrows and leaned over to peer into Phil's cup, staring suspiciously. Phil smiled softly. “Do you want to taste it?” 

Dan blinked and asked in surprise, “You would . . . you would let me?”

Phil smiled and pushed the cup across the table. “Of course.”

Dan frowned down at his cup, reluctantly wrapping his fingers around it and bringing it to his lips. He took a small, hesitant sip and put it down immediately, pushing it back towards Phil and pretending to gag. “Bitter!” he blurted with accusing eyes, sticking out his tongue in disgust. “Ew.”

Phil let out a hearty laugh, thoroughly amused. “Strong black tea with no sugar,” Phil told him with a grin, taking a grateful sip from his cup. “That's how I like it.”

Dan stared at him in disgust, holding his cup tightly and suddenly looking protective of his tea. “You're a weirdo,” he accused.

“I am the weirdo?” Phil smiled in amusement.

Dan dropped his gaze to his hands immediately, looking flustered. His wings fluttered a little, and Dan avoided his eyes. “Yes.”

Phil sighed with a small smile and remained quiet, enjoying his cup of tea. Dan squirmed in his chair and fidgeted with his fingers, glancing at Phil every few seconds. After a while, Phil sighed, “What?”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip. “Why?”

“Hmm?” Phil tilted his head in question. “Why what?”

Dan didn't meet his eyes, but his eyes were lowered, a glum, dismal look on his face. Phil's eyebrows furrowed, and he waited attentively, tapping his fingernails on the table. Biting his lip nervously, Dan asked in a quiet, woeful tone, “Why did you help me?”

Phil placed his cup down on the table and leaned back in his chair, letting out a quiet sigh as he stared at Dan. Dan stubbornly stared at his cup, fingers tightening around it. “Why wouldn't I?” Phil mumbled finally. “It looked like the right thing to do.”

Dan visibly swallowed, sitting there in silence for several minutes. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize. It's alright,” Phil responded softly in a reassuring tone. “I'm sorry for telling you to leave last time.” Dan looked up at that, eyes a little wide. Phil shot him a small smile. “I shouldn't have done that. You obviously needed help. It's just–” Phil stared at his half-empty cup solemnly. “It's not safe. Like I said before, I have friends who are Hunters. It could cause problems if they found out.”

Dan was silent, looking guilty. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, and Phil chewed on his bottom lip, a dozen curious question swirling around his head. He couldn't help but ask, “How did you end up there?” Dan's shoulders immediately tensed, and Phil's eyes narrowed doubtfully. “In the alley? Were you living there? For how long?”

Minutes slipped by in silence, and Phil's legs bounced under the table, his eyes narrowed in concern as he gazed at a quiet Dan. “Dan,” Phil said again, tapping his knuckles on the table to get his attention. “If you need my help, you have to talk to me,” he explained in a gentle voice. “Where did you come from, Dan? How did you end up like this? What happened?”

Dan swallowed and his eyes filled with tears. “I'm sorry,” he whispered in a broken voice.

Phil's eyes widened, and he gaped at Dan who looked like he was on the brink of a breakdown. Immediately regretting his unwarranted questioning, Phil apologized swiftly. “No, I–” He sighed regretfully, “I'm sorry, I shouldn't–look, you don't have to tell me.” Dan sniffed and Phil reached across the table to place his hand on Dan's. “It's alright. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to.”

Dan sniffed again, and Phil sighed, feeling guilty. People didn't end up on the streets for absolutely no reason. Phil had no idea what had happened to this boy. Whatever it was, it might've been traumatizing. He had no right to force Dan to relive his nightmare. Phil nodded in understanding and squeezed Dan's hand in a comforting way. “Hey, it's alright. I'm sorry for asking,” he murmured genuinely.

Dan finally lifted his gaze and looked up with wide brown eyes, wings rising from their crumpled state. Phil smiled softly and gave his hand another squeeze. Dan's wings fluttered like never before and he stared at Phil with eyes filled with admiration.

Phil raised his eyebrows, and Dan blinked repeatedly, lowering his eyes instantly. “Thank you.”

“It's okay,” Phil sighed.

Dan chewed on his bottom lip and stood up abruptly. “I-I should leave.”

Phil blinked. “You can stay if you want to,” he suggested, “At least until your fever–”

“No.” Dan shook his head.

“You can't stay in the alley,” Phil told him truthfully. “Where will you go? You have nowhere to–”

“You don't have to worry about me,” Dan murmured quietly, turning around. “I'm sorry. I have to leave.”

“I understand that,” Phil responded, standing up and following him. “But someone saw you in the alley. They're looking for you. Don't–”

“I'll be okay . . . I do have a place to stay,” Dan whispered in a quiet voice.

Phil stared at him, not knowing what to do. He was sceptical, but he had no right to stop him. He simply nodded. The sky was still purple, and the city still very much asleep. This was a good time for Dan to leave without anyone noticing him. “Okay.”


	9. Humans are weirdos

Phil didn't hear from Dan for many uneventful days, and he concluded that Dan had finally gone back to wherever he had come from. He thought about Dan often, wondering about what had happened to him and why he was the way he was. Nevertheless, Phil knew curiosity was extremely dangerous sometimes, and he tried his best not to think about Dan. Anthony had briefly mentioned that they were unable to catch the winged man living in their street. Keeping that in mind, Phil made an effort to relax and forget about the weird boy. Although making that a reality was easier said than done.

“Dammit, I can't concentrate,” Phil muttered quietly, placing the cup down with a clatter and leaning back on his plush sofa. He took off his glasses irritably and stared at the blurry ceiling, mind unfocused.

Phil's mind drifted to Dan once again. He thought of winged men and their harsh lives. They were forced to live in hiding, deprived of food and basic necessities of life. They were hated and ostracized from society even though most of them were innocent like Dan. Phil had always wondered if the government was exaggerating when they called winged men murderers. After meeting Dan, he was absolutely certain it was an unnecessary exaggeration.

A loud crash invaded the silence, making him snap out of his thoughts. He frowned and sat upright. He put his glasses back on immediately, blinking repeatedly in disorientation. What was that? Did he imagine it?

Another thumping sound, the noise of a pained groan and little footsteps reached his ears. Phil's eyes widened, and he placed his laptop away and hurried into his bedroom, confusion making him frown suspiciously. His heart thudded and a million worst-case scenarios ran through his head. An intruder? A burglar? A stray cat?

Phil grabbed a spatula on the way and held it in front of him like a weapon, breathing heavily. Cautiously, quietly, he opened the door and tip-toed into his room. The rustling of his window curtains and the quiet flutter of wings made him blink. His eyes widened, and he stared at the floor. “Dan.”

Phil lowered his rudimentary weapon, eyes wide. Dan was sitting on the floor, his wings lowered, his arms and face covered in bloody scratches, a large cut marring his forehead. Phil blinked in concern and rushed towards him, crouching down beside him without a second thought. He placed the spatula on the floor absently and grimaced. “Hey, you alright?” he asked worriedly, frowning. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry,” Dan murmured timidly. “I didn't know where else to go–I just . . .” he trailed off awkwardly, looking embarrassed.

“What happened?” Phil asked, and Dan immediately looked away. “How did you get hurt?”

Phil stared at him solemnly. He was still wearing the T-shirt Phil had given him, but it was caked with mud and dirt. Dan's hair was messy and greasy, his gangly arms covered in little bruises. Phil's heart ached with sympathy. He wanted to ask. He wanted to know what had happened. He wanted to ask Dan if he was lying, if he really had a place to stay, but he felt like he would never get an honest answer. Dan didn't look like the type to reveal personal details, and it wasn't Phil's place to ask.

“It's okay,” Phil stated with a sigh. “I won't ask.”

“Thank you.” Dan averted his eyes, fidgeting with his sleeves. “I know I shouldn't come here. I just–I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” Phil murmured, holding out a hand. “Come on.”

Dan stared at Phil's palm with wide, admiring eyes and shyly placed his hand above Phil's, his cheeks pink. Phil guided him to the bed and made him sit, leaving the room to retrieve his first-aid kit. When he came back, he sat beside Dan and proceeded to clean Dan's wounds with a wet cloth. He stayed silent and tried to ignore Dan's constant awed stare. “I tell you to take care of yourself and this is what you do,” he muttered quietly with a huff.

Dan tensed. “Sorry.”

Phil sighed and scooted closer, grabbing Dan's chin. “Look here.”

Dan blinked at him, eyes wide and cheeks pink as he gaped at Phil. His wings fluttered noisily behind his back, leaving feathers everywhere. Phil ignored his startled expression and leaned in to get a closer look. There was a small trickle of blood running down the side of Dan's face, and Phil frowned. He wiped the blood off his face, cleaning the cut above his left eyebrow. “What did you do? You're covered in bruises,” Phil huffed quietly. “Did you get into a fight? Are you a child?”

“I–um,” Dan blinked repeatedly, looking terrified as he scooted away to the foot of the bed. Phil raised his eyebrows in amusement, and Dan bit his lip awkwardly, murmuring, “Too close.”

Phil rolled his eyes and grabbed a band-aid. He stood up and moved towards Dan, putting the band-aid on Dan. Dan flinched. “It hurts.”

“I know,” Phil murmured softly. “It should heal completely in a few hours.”

“Okay.” Dan nodded, staring at his hands nervously.

Phil looked at him quietly for a few moments and blurted, “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

Dan blinked repeatedly and stared at Phil with wide eyes. “Stay?”

“Yeah.” Phil nodded with a small sigh, carding his fingers through his hair awkwardly. “Take a shower. Clean up. Sleep if you want to. You look like you could use some rest.”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip, fidgeting with his sleeves. He avoided Phil's eyes, looking anywhere but at him. “Okay,” he agreed silently.

~*~

Phil sighed exasperatedly, leaning back against the headboard and placing his laptop away. It was almost 1 o'clock and he was still up, scrolling through Reddit pointlessly. Dan was fast asleep in the next room, but Phil couldn't sleep no matter how hard he tried. Dan had taken a shower and ripped apart another one of Phil's old T-shirts. He had gobbled up the food Phil had made for him and expressed his thankfulness, immediately going to sleep. He had looked exhausted, and Phil knew he needed rest.

Phil huffed and yawned, stretching his arms and letting out a satisfied groan. He rose from the bed tiredly and tiptoed to the door, deciding to make some tea for himself. Stepping out into the hallway, he scratched his neck and sighed in exhaustion, eyes wandering to the door in front of him. He wondered if Dan was okay . . .

Without thinking, he trudged towards the door and stilled with a sigh. Huffing in resignation, he peeked into the room, furrowing his eyebrows in surprise.

The bed was empty, the duvet lying crumpled on the floor. Phil frowned and his eyes drifted towards the window, widening when he noticed Dan sitting there in silence, looking up at the night sky. Phil's mouth opened to say something, but he closed it quickly, watching Dan solemnly.

The room was dark, drowning in silence. The curtains fluttered in the slow breeze that flowed in. The moonlight dripped into the room and illuminated Dan's pale cheeks. He was sitting quietly in a chair, knees pulled to his chest. His black wings glistened behind him. The tears on his cheeks and the dullness in his eyes made Phil stop dead in his tracks. He hesitated and his shoulders stiffened. It was a deeply personal moment. The sadness of it was in the air, and Phil wasn't sure if he had the right to interrupt.

Swallowing painfully, Phil stepped into the room anyway. There was something painful about it, something he couldn't place. Sitting there still and all alone in a dark room, Dan looked like a beautiful, sad painting. He looked small and lonely, and Phil couldn't turn away from him. That would be a cruel thing to do.

“You alright?” Phil whispered cautiously, standing beside him and looking out at the desolate street below.

Dan jerked back in shock, blinking up at Phil. His eyes widened, and he immediately turned away in embarrassment, wiping his eyes furiously. His shoulders tensed and he sat stiffly. “Sorry,” he croaked and cleared his throat. “I couldn't sleep so I just–”

“It's fine, Dan,” Phil murmured softly, turning his gaze away from the window and meeting Dan's eyes. “Are you okay?”

Dan swallowed and dropped his gaze to his hands. “I'm fine,” he whispered quietly, standing up to walk back to the bed. “I'll, um, I'll just go to sleep.”

Sympathy squeezed Phil's heart, and he stared at Dan in silence. Dan's posture was rigid, his eyes staring emptily at nothing in particular. Phil was never sure what to do in situations like these, but he had learned from his mom that every single person on earth, no matter who they were, needed warmth and reassurance. Sighing softly, Phil asked, “Do you want a hug?”

Dan stilled like a stone and turned around with wide eyes, surprise clear on his face. “What?”

“Sometimes it helps.” Phil shrugged. “Do you want a hug?”

Dan's wings fluttered, and he stared at Phil in silence for several quiet moments. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he dropped his gaze to his feet in defeat. He sniffed and gave Phil a tiny nod. “Please.”

Phil nodded wordlessly, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around the winged boy. Dan stiffened but held on to him tightly. He smelled like Phil's shampoo and something uniquely earthy, like morning dew and wildflowers in a deep, dense forest. He was warm but far _far_ too skinny. Phil's chest tightened, and he couldn't help but feel a tremendous amount of pity. He still couldn't understand why winged men were hated so much. “It'll be okay,” he whispered in a comforting way, patting his back, “I don't know what happened, but you'll be alright, okay?”

Dan was quiet for a long while, clinging to him like a scared child. “I'm sorry,” Dan murmured quietly against his shoulder after a few minutes of silence. “For bothering you like this.”

“It's fine.” Swallowing with difficulty, Phil pulled away and smiled kindly. “You're not bothering me.” He extended his hand and ruffled Dan's hair. “It'll get better, yeah?” He smiled.

Dan stared at him in wonder, blinking repeatedly as if to make sure it was real. Phil sighed softly. “Come on, I'll help you to bed.”

“No, I–” Dan blushed in embarrassment and brushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear shyly. “I'm not sleepy. I'll just sit here for a while,” he announced, pointing at the chair. “I like watching the stars.”

“You'll be fine on your own?”

Dan nodded but Phil wasn't convinced. He furrowed his eyebrows, a small, temporary solution to sleeplessness popping into his mind. Standing stoically, Phil nodded to himself in determination and suggested, “Do you want to watch a movie with me?” Dan blinked his eyelashes at him, and Phil rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I know it's late, but it'll take your mind off of things.”

All he got in return was a confused look and an unexpected revelation. “What's a movie?” 

Phil blinked, and his eyes widened. “You don't know what a movie is? Movie, you know, the thing you watch on T.V?”

“Oh,” Dan frowned, “The box-like thing with people.”

“Yeah . . . Well, not exactly. It's not a box anymore. It's flat,” Phil elaborated. “You see, it's actually . . .”

Phil spent the next few minutes explaining to Dan what a movie was. Unfortunately, Dan hadn't seen many movies, and he couldn't quite remember the last time he had sat down and fully finished a movie. Phil wondered if Dan had somehow time travelled from the past. As far as he knew, winged men lived in their own little secret villages where humans were not allowed. They most certainly had access to all modern technology, but Dan didn't seem to know anything about it. It didn't make sense.

Nevertheless, Phil decided that he needed to change that, and he announced that they were going to watch a movie anyway.

“Have you ever watched _Titanic?_ ” Phil asked contemplatively. Dan shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “I think you'll like it!”

Phil had already been planning on rewatching the classic. He grinned down at Dan and told him to wait. He hurried out of the room in a rush and rented the movie on Amazon Prime, making Dan a warm cup of tea and calling him to the living room. It was almost 2 o'clock but Phil couldn't bring himself to care.

Dan's steps were unsteady. Phil slid an arm around his waist and guided him to the sofa, handing him his tea. Dan smiled gratefully and murmured, “Thank you.” He took a small sip and made a face immediately, giving the cup back to Phil. “More sugar.”

Phil huffed. “It's not good for you, Dan,” he chastised, but took the cup back and padded over to his kitchen, adding another spoonful of sugar into it. Shuffling back into the living room, Phil started the movie and handed Dan's tea back to him, sitting next to him on the sofa.

Dan was already snuggled up in a blanket, his eyes on the screen. Phil smiled and leaned back comfortably, turning his attention to the movie.

~*~

Dan didn't seem to be particularly immersed in the movie at first. In fact, he appeared to be a little confused by everything that was occurring on screen, but as the movie progressed, his interest seemed to increase. 

His eyes were fixed on the screen unblinkingly, transfixed as he gaped at everything that was happening, scooting closer to Phil timidly and holding on to his arm tightly. Whenever something awful happened on screen, he would squeeze Phil's hand, and Phil would shake his head at his naivety. 

Phil had seen the movie a million times, and by the time the ship began to sink, he had abandoned the movie. He was more intrigued by Dan's reactions instead. He was snuggled against Phil's side, eyes wide and glistening, reflecting the light of the screen. His cheeks were glowing, his wings lowered behind his back as he sat next to Phil. He was staring at the screen, his mouth agape in fear, brown curls falling over his face. 

Phil smiled, and his heart warmed. He couldn't remember the last time he had watched a movie with someone. He was usually busy and struggling to make ends meet, stressed even when he was spending time with someone. His nights were mostly lonely, and he spent them alone in his living room with a bottle of whiskey. It felt nice to finally have someone in his home, and it made him feel a little less lonely than usual. He felt like he had managed to make a new friend.

“No . . .” Dan whispered in a pained voice, “No . . .”

Phil blinked and focused his attention back on Dan, raising his eyebrows when Dan hugged his arm and sniffed, resting his head against Phil's shoulder. Noticing the end credits on the screen, Phil sighed. “Are you alright?”

Dan sniffed. “He died.” 

Phil smiled at the sad look on Dan's face and unwrapped Dan's hands from his arm, standing up and holding out a hand. “Come on, I'll make you some tea.”

Dan wiped his eyes and shuffled behind him, following him to the kitchen and taking a seat on the stool. “She killed him,” he sniffed again as Phil placed the kettle on the stove.

Phil huffed. “She didn't kill him, Dan.”

Dan stood up from his seat and walked around the table. “Why would she do that?” he asked in anger. “Why would she kill him? She–she ma–mate–” Dan stammered and blushed, “–mated with him and she just–”

“Mated?” Phil frowned in confusion, but realization dawned on him very quickly. He nodded. “Oh.”

“She let her mate die!” Dan sniffed, “Humans are weirdos.”

“Dan, it's just a movie,” Phil repeated, tuning him out and working around the kitchen as Dan continued to murmur incomprehensibly. He paced back and forth unsteadily, knocked random items to the floor and pouted when Phil didn't answer him, huffing quietly and sitting back down on the stool. Somehow Dan looked more energetic and normal. Phil wondered if it was because of the movie.

Phil handed him his cup of tea and sat down next to him, only to hear the question again from Dan's mouth, “Why would she do that?”

Phil ignored the urge to roll his eyes and explained carefully. “Dan, she didn't kill him. She loved him. He just died unexpectedly.”

“She pushed him into the water!” Dan gasped scandalously. He sniffed and took a sip of his tea, making a disgusted face. “More sugar.”

Phil rolled his eyes this time, but he couldn't control the smile that appeared on his face. He reached forward and added another teaspoon of sugar into Dan's tea, stirring it with a spoon. Dan took a small, careful sip and grinned brightly.

Phil blinked, gaping at Dan, suddenly mesmerized. Dan tilted his head in confusion but continued the one-sided discussion. “Why did she do that?” he asked, “Do humans not value their mates?”

Phil swallowed and sighed, taking a long gulp of his tea. “He was already dead, Dan. She survived because she stayed on top of the plank. Besides, it was just a movie!”

“Why didn't Jack climb onto it?” Dan asked confusedly. 

“Because then it would sink and both of them would die!” Phil explained exasperatedly. 

“Then they both should've died!” Dan snapped in a pained voice. Phil blinked in surprise and turned around to find Dan staring into his tea, eyes filled with tears. “Now she'll have to live without Jack and that's so sad. I'd rather die.”

Phil huffed at him and gazed at him solemnly. Dan continued to sniff and sob, wiping his eyes furiously. With a long, suffering sigh, Phil sat down beside him and murmured, “Hey. It's just a movie. Don't take it so seriously.”

“How can I not take it seriously?” Dan sniffed with tear-filled eyes. “I'm sad!”

“Don't be sad.” Phil huffed and muttered, “I shouldn't have picked that movie.”

“Why aren't you sad?” Dan mumbled with a sniff.

“Because I'm not an idiot like you,” Phil muttered under his breath. Unfortunately, Dan heard him.

“I'm not an idiot!” he snapped and frowned at Phil, “You're weird and you confuse me.”

Phil sighed deeply and tried to calm down. This argument was dumb, and he shouldn't encourage it. “Look, I'm tired. You're tired. This is stupid. We should sleep.”

Dan stayed silent and stared into his cup regretfully, and Phil sighed exasperatedly. “Show me your hands.”

Dan blinked in confusion and looked up. “What?”

“Show me your hands,” he murmured quietly, taking Dan's hands and inspecting his injuries. He examined the remaining scratches and cuts, furrowing his eyebrows contemplatively. “It's healing but . . .” he trailed off absently.

Dan stared at him with wide eyes, confusion clear on his face. Phil let go of his hands and leaned close to inspect the cut above his eyebrows. Dan stilled like a statue, and his wings fluttered loudly as Phil placed his hand on Dan's cheek, frowning at the minor scratches on his face. “It's healing very slowly.”

He let go of Dan and moved back pensively, blinking at the wide-eyed, embarrassed look on Dan's face. “What?” He frowned.

Dan shook his head with wide eyes and looked away quickly. “You confuse me,” he murmured.

Phil gave him a puzzled smile and explained, “Look, you need rest. It's almost 6 in the morning. You can't leave today anyway. Your regeneration abilities are not working properly because you're weak. Finish your tea and try to get some sleep, okay?”

Dan quietly nodded. “Okay.”

Phil smiled. “Good.”


	10. A risky situation

Phil opened the door a crack and peered into Dan's room, a small smile gracing his lips as he stepped into the room. Dan was asleep, curly brown hair splayed across the pillow. He had slept all day, getting up only when Phil had brought him food. Although most of his wounds had healed, his body was still fragile. Phil figured he needed the rest.

Letting out a sad sigh, Phil sauntered over to the bed, tucking Dan under the duvet carefully. Dan let out a soft, restful noise, sighing comfortably and sticking one leg out of the duvet. Smiling, Phil turned away and padded over to the windows, closing the curtains. He picked up a ballpoint pen that had rolled away into a corner and placed it back in the pen stand.

Turning off the lights, Phil stalked out of the room and down the hallway, wandering into his quiet, dark kitchen. There were unwashed dishes in the sink and a small stain on the counter. Phil's mind was still full of uncertain thoughts and unresolved worries. He pondered over them as he worked quietly.

Everything about Dan confused him. He still wasn't sure where Dan had come from, and why he didn't have a place to stay. He didn't know anything about Dan, but he was still willing to help. It had always been his dream to help winged people, and maybe this was an opportunity to study the behaviours and manners of winged men. Phil had decided to stay positive, and he tried to ignore the risks. This could turn out to be a great learning experience.

The kitchen was dark and peaceful, the slow trickle of tap water and the abrupt clatter of plates the only sound in the whole room. Phil worked quietly, diligently, arranging the utensils in its designated place and scrubbing the stain off the counter with a wet piece of cloth. He wiped his wet hands on his T-shirt and turned to return to his bedroom, stopping dead in his tracks when he heard a loud thud and the noisy flutter of wings.

Eyes wide and startled, Phil stared blankly in the direction of Dan's room. Another set of loud thuds invaded the silence, and Phil rushed out of the kitchen, tripping over his own feet as he marched down the hallway in blind panic. Was Dan sleep walking? Did he fall off the bed?

Pushing the door open, Phil hurried inside swiftly only to find an empty bed and the window wide open. He switched on the lights carefully and frowned confusedly. Dan was nowhere to be seen, and Phil's frantic eyes swept across the small space, his heart beating irregularly. Did he leave? Did he get caught?

The room was dark and silent, the moonlight pouring in through the open window. The night chillness was evident in the air, and the room was submerged in an odd sense of despair. A small breeze flowed in and caressed Phil's cheeks, making him huff in bafflement. Quietly, he padded over to the window in a state of disbelief and closed it, making sure not to lock it just in case . . .

“You could've said something before leaving . . .” Phil muttered in annoyance, taking a deep breath and sighing deeply. He trudged back to the bed in disappointment and folded the duvet dutifully, removing the messy bedsheet and spreading it again carefully. When he turned around, he noticed a small piece of paper placed neatly on the table. Frowning, he stepped closer and picked it up, staring ambivalently at the hastily scribbled words on the page.

_Thank you for everything. I won't bother you again_. –Dan.

Phil blinked down at the words and sighed glumly. He crushed the paper into a tiny ball and threw it into the bin. He stalked to the door and turned the lights off, stepping out into the dim hallway. Dan had left a note, and it most certainly meant that he would never visit again. Phil wasn't sure if he should be happy or sad.

He simply huffed in resignation and retreated to his bedroom. As he dropped back to the soft bed, he let out another small, downhearted sigh. His mind inevitably drifted to thoughts of Dan and his peculiar nature.

Dan was different and fragile in a way Phil couldn't wholly describe. He wondered if they would ever meet again. Considering all aspects of the situation, it seemed quite impossible. Phil sighed softly, staring at the ceiling. If only everyone could see that winged men were not as dangerous as everyone claimed them to be.

If humans accepted winged men, none of this would've happened. He pondered about it for many quiet moments, but he couldn't imagine it. Those types of miracles only happened in fantasies or nonsensical stories. These thoughts were not grounded in reality.

Phil closed his eyes and cleared his mind, determined to forget about Dan. It was not like it mattered. Dan was a stranger, and they would probably never meet again anyway.

~*~

Phil spent the next few days cleaning and mopping his entire apartment. He scrubbed his bathroom floors and washed his bedsheets, rigorously cleaning every single nook and cranny. He ardently searched his house and picked up little black feathers from every small crack and crevice, wiping every proof of Dan's arrival and departure from his house. He made sure to cleanse every surface, thoroughly immersed in making his apartment glisten with cleanliness.

“Phil?”

Sometimes, Phil's thoughts involuntarily floated back to Dan, and he wondered where Dan was, if he was even alive or dead. Sighing quietly, Phil stared into his tea, his forefinger circling the rim of his cup absently.

“Phil, are you listening?”

Life was so unpredictable. Phil never thought he would ever meet a winged man, but now he was actively worrying about one. It was very strange indeed. It could even be seen as a betrayal. Phil was technically a traitor now. 

“Phil!”

“Hmm?” Phil blinked and looked up with wide eyes, staring into the face of an irritated Louise. “Yeah? What?”

Louise rolled her eyes, brushing her golden locks back from her shoulder. “You seem distracted,” she mumbled quietly, pursing her red, lipstick-covered lips. “Did something happen?”

Phil shrugged and exhaled slowly, pushing his glasses up. “Er, no. It's nothing. I'm just tired.”

“Mm.” Louise narrowed her knowing eyes, her look sharp. She lifted her cup and took a small, elegant sip, placing it down with a small clinking noise. “Well . . . you do look awful,” she stated absently, taking out her phone and peering into it. “Anyway, I have to leave. Try to get some sleep. Don't overwork yourself.”

Phil waved his hands dismissively, rising to his feet and following her to the door. He rubbed his eyes in exhaustion and stood near the door, watching Louise.

“Are you sure you're alright?” Louise frowned.

Phil sighed deeply and yawned. “Yeah, I just need some sleep.”

Louise nodded. “Come over sometime. The kids miss you.”

“I will,” Phil assured, carding his fingers through his hair. Louise smiled at him, turning and walking away, the clicking of her heels echoing in the hallway. Phil let out a tired sigh and closed the door, staggering to his sofa and dropping on it like a dead weight. “Fuck,” he groaned, “I'm tired.”

Phil closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, removing his glasses and lying comfortably. Minutes passed quietly, and Phil felt the calm silence wrap around him, slowly lulling him into a deep sleep. He distantly recollected that he was still in his living room, but he couldn't bring himself to care. His fatigue automatically pulled him into the depths of unconsciousness, and he couldn't resist the temptation.

Unfortunately, luck was not on his side. It felt like god's way of punishing him. He was about to let go and doze off when a loud bang and a flapping noise made him jolt awake. He jumped to his feet immediately, albeit a little unsteadily. He didn't need to think and wonder before rushing to his bedroom. He already had an idea about who it was. It surprised him, but he wasn't disappointed.

“What are you doing here again?” Phil huffed in befuddlement, a bit out of breath and disoriented.

Dan chewed on his bottom lip sheepishly, staring at his feet shamefully. He was dripping wet, covered in dirt and mud. Phil glanced at the rain outside and quickly stepped towards the window. Closing it swiftly, he turned to Dan. Dan quickly averted his eyes, looking embarrassed. “I'm sorry,” he murmured in a quiet voice. “I–um, I was just flying and–and it started raining and I just . . . it was dark; I couldn't see . . . ” he trailed off, biting his bottom lip nervously. 

Phil stared at him in disbelief for a few silent moments. The sound of the strong wind against his windows was loud, rattling the frames ferociously. He frowned, his attention drifting towards a bloody cut on Dan's right cheek. “Jesus Christ, are you a fucking toddler?” he admonished irritably, stepping closer to get a better look.

Dan blinked repeatedly and stumbled back, his black eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks. Phil ignored his strange antics and placed his hand on Dan's cheek, analysing the wound with a frown. “What are you? Four?” he huffed. 

“Um.” Dan placed his palms against Phil's chest and pushed him back, blushing profusely. “Too close.”

Phil furrowed his eyebrows, both confused and amused at the same time. “You're weird, Dan.”

“I'm not weird.” Dan frowned. “You confuse me.”

Phil rolled his eyes with a small sigh, but somehow he was feeling slightly happy. Dan was . . . interesting. “Come on,” he murmured quietly, pulling Dan to the bed. “Sit.”

Dan sat down obediently, and Phil pulled out the first aid box that he now kept in his bedside drawer. There was silence for a while as Phil disinfected Dan's wound. Dan fidgeted with his sleeves, and his wings fluttered noisily everytime Phil moved close. He tried to ignore Dan's behaviour and focused on his task. “Are you alright?” he asked finally in a soft voice. “You're shivering. Are you cold?”

Dan nodded. “A little.”

Phil looked at him for a long time, feeling conflicted. He was highly aware of what he was doing. He was committing an unforgivable crime. He was breaking the law. He was going against the wishes of his friends and family. He should stop this; he should send Dan away and tell him to stop coming here. He needed to find some courage and tell Dan to get out. It wasn't safe, and he really must put an end to this reckless behaviour.

“Go take a shower. I'll make you something to eat,” Phil suggested gently, ignoring his thoughts as he put the band-aid on Dan. He stood up and whirled around quickly, hurrying to the door. He blinked in surprise when he felt Dan's delicate hand curling around his wrist. He turned quietly and stared at his wrist, looking up at Dan with surprised eyes. “Is something wrong?” he asked cautiously.

“No, just . . .” Dan swallowed, his eyes tearful. “Thank you.”

Phil pulled his hand away and trudged to the door. “It's fine,” he announced before walking out and closing the door behind him.

What was he even doing? Normal people would probably kick him out, but Phil could never turn Dan away, especially when he needed help. He was not that sort of person. He had never been that selfish. While growing up, Louise used to berate him for it. There was a quote she constantly used around him . . . a quote that he couldn't quite remember. What was it? It was fairly simple; it was easy to remember. What was it? 

Phil swallowed, standing quietly in the dark hallway. He furrowed his eyebrows and thought deeply, squinting his eyes. What was it?

Ah. _Don't set yourself on fire to keep others warm_. 

That was it.

~*~

Phil placed the last plate in the dish rack and wiped his hands on the towel quietly, sighing softly. His feet ached, and he was beyond exhausted. Groaning in frustration, he dropped back into a chair and stretched his legs, sitting quietly in the silence of the empty kitchen.

It was late at night, and Dan was sound asleep in the bedroom. He had taken a shower, and Phil had made him food, making sure to add little drops of blood into it. Dan had gobbled it all up swiftly, leaving bits of food everywhere in his haste. Watching him eat caused a numb ache in Phil's chest. Dan looked like he hadn't eaten anything in days, and Phil couldn't help but offer him more food. Dan appeared to have a sweet tooth, and he had looked mesmerized by the ice cream Phil had presented before him.

After the meal, Phil had asked Dan if he wanted to watch a movie, and they had spent two hours watching a random sad movie which ended up making Dan cry for half an hour. By the end of it all, it was already 1 o'clock at night, and Dan had finally gone to sleep, leaving Phil by himself.

“I'll have to clean it again . . .” Phil muttered silently, picking up little black feathers from the kitchen floor. Despite it all, he felt himself smile when he remembered Dan's teary-eyed face after the movie. He was so gullible and naive, unlike anyone Phil had ever seen. Phil knew Dan's naivety was dangerous. It made him an easy target, but it was, in a way, quite adorable.

Phil sighed softly and turned off the lights, ready to retreat to the comfort of his bedroom. Limbs aching, he staggered down the hallway, rubbing his tired eyes. A loud, petrified scream made him freeze in his path, and he blinked repeatedly in befuddlement. His hand stilled above the doorknob, and his eyebrows furrowed as he stood there in shock. Another small sob and a terrified scream penetrated the silence inside his apartment.

Phil's blood ran cold as a million potential disasters ran through his head. He pushed the door open and rushed into the room, blinking repeatedly in utter confusion. The room was dark and quiet, and Dan's heavy breathing was loud in the silence. He was standing in a corner, wings outstretched and eyes filled with panic. The window was locked tightly and the curtains were drawn. The moonlight made patterns on the floor, making it look like a piece of art.

Relief flooded Phil's chest, and he took a deep breath to calm himself. “Dan,” he said cautiously, sighing in exasperation. “What's wrong?”

Dan breathed harshly, almost panting, and his eyes widened in shock. “Who are you? Where am I?” he choked out, sounding scared, eyes darting back and forth, looking for an escape. “What did you do to me?”

Phil blinked and stopped short at the look on Dan's face. He halted his movements and stayed still, furrowing his eyebrows. Dan's eyes were glazed over and dreamy, his movements hasty and strange. “It's okay,” Phil murmured softly. “It's just me. It's Phil. The guy that helped you? Do you remember me?”

Dan stared at him for several moments, breathing heavily, hands wrapped protectively around his torso. Phil stepped closer steadily. “It's okay, I promise. You're safe,” he murmured calmly.

Dan swallowed and melted to the floor immediately, sliding both of his hands into his hair and pulling it in frustration.

Phil crouched down beside him cautiously, like Dan was a wounded animal. He placed a hand on his shoulder gently. “Hey . . . what's wrong?”

“Bad dream,” Dan sniffed, squeezing his eyes shut. “Sorry.”

Phil stared at him, sympathy spreading through his chest. He was right after all. Dan had experienced something horribly traumatic, but Phil had no right to ask. All he could do was offer some comfort. “Do you want a hug?” he asked softly.

Dan looked up with wide eyes, wonder clear on his face. Phil gave him a small smile, and Dan sniffed, lowering his gaze. “Okay.”

Phil nodded wordlessly, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around Dan. Dan sniffed and held on to him tightly, burying his head into Phil's shoulder. There was nothing but silence for a while, and Phil stayed still and quiet.

“I'm sorry,” Dan murmured suddenly. 

“For what?” Phil asked in confusion.

“For–for making you hug me,” Dan whispered guiltily. “I keep troubling you. You don't even know me, but you–”

Phil sighed. “It's fine.” He let out a small huff. “I babysit Louise's kids all the time. I have experience when it comes to dealing with kids. You're not troubling me at all.”

Dan was silent for a moment, but then he pulled back and frowned. “Did you–” He looked confused. “Did you just call me a kid?”

Phil suppressed a smile and flicked Dan's forehead. “Yeah.”

“Ow,” Dan rubbed his forehead and frowned at him intensely. “I'm not a kid. I'm twenty-two years old.”

“Well, I'm twenty-six.” Phil shrugged. “I'm four years older than you.” He stood up and held out a hand, “Come on, I'll help you to bed.” 

Dan glared at him. “I'm not a kid.”

“You are to me,” Phil sighed thoughtfully. “I've always wanted a little brother.”

“Brother?” Dan's eyes widened. “I'm not your brother.”

“I didn't say you were.” Phil rubbed his neck in exhaustion. “Come on. Get back to bed. I'm tired.”

“Take–” Dan began in horror, standing up with wide eyes. “Take that back!”

Phil's head throbbed, and he removed his glasses and rubbed under his eyes. “Take what back?”

Dan bit his lip and stared at his feet with sad eyes, looking defeated. “I–I gave you my feather . . .” he mumbled a little sulkily.

“What?” Phil asked drowsily, putting his glasses back on. “Did you say something?”

“No,” Dan whispered. “I'm going to sleep.”

Phil blinked. “Oh, okay.”

Dan nodded soundlessly, and Phil gripped his arm and assisted him back to the bed unhurriedly. 

When Dan was carefully tucked under the duvet again, Phil sat beside him and said, “Try to get some sleep, okay? Call me if you need anything.”

Dan nodded quietly and turned his back on Phil. Phil huffed and smiled, walking out of the room and closing the door behind him. Sighing deeply, he staggered to his room and fell back on his bed. He lost consciousness almost instantly.

He woke up late the next morning to find that Dan had disappeared again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! How do you like the story so far? I like to move slowly instead of jumping right to the buttfucking (pardon my language) I hope that's not a problem. Thank you for reading and hope you're safe and well! Take care. Like seriously the world is going insane at the moment. Stay safe :)


	11. Am I your friend?

An entire week passed before Dan made an appearance for the third time. This time Phil was fully prepared for it. He was sitting on the sofa when he heard the noise. It didn't startle him like before. He simply rose to his feet and coolly stalked to his room, letting out a deep, suffering sigh of exasperation. As expected, Dan was standing near the window sheepishly, covered in bruises and his mouth sealed shut. Phil rolled his eyes and beckoned him closer. He stayed silent and quietly cleaned his wounds. He bandaged Dan's injuries and refrained from asking unwarranted questions.

After telling Dan to take a shower, he ambled to his kitchen and made him food. Dan wolfed it down later without protest.

They watched another movie, and Phil let him sleep in the spare bedroom. He disappeared by the time Phil woke up the next day.

Phil thought it would stop there. Dan would stop coming over after the third time, but it just slowly became more frequent. Over the course of the next few weeks, it almost became a routine. Dan would show up uninvited in his bedroom late at night, dirty and covered in mud and bruises. Phil would make him food and let him sleep. He usually vanished before Phil woke up.

Despite the danger that undeniably lay ahead, Phil couldn't bring himself to turn him away. He would simply watch Dan as he ate the food Phil made for him, sympathy coiling around his heart. Sometimes, Phil tried to ask questions, to find out what was going on, but Dan was always quiet, keeping his mouth shut and his eyes lowered.

Usually, Dan made an appearance every four or five days, but Dan hadn't shown up in over a week, and Phil was starting to worry. He was beginning to enjoy Dan's presence in his home, and he missed Dan's silliness just a tiny bit. Phil had stayed up the previous night, wondering where Dan had gone. He had had a little too much to drink, and inevitably, he had passed out on his bedroom floor.

“Phil?”

Phil exhaled softly and turned on his side, his mind drowsy from sleepiness. He wasn't sure what time it was, but it had to be the early hours of the morning. Groaning quietly, he curled into a ball and drifted off to sleep again.

“Phil.” Someone was poking his arm, and Phil's sleep-addled brain couldn't quite figure out who it was.

“Phil, wake up.” Someone continued to poke him, and he frowned. “Phil.”

“Phil!” Louise? Anthony? Was it PJ? Phil let out a soft groan and rolled away, his arms and limbs aching from sleeping on the cold floor all night. Even though his mind was in a trance-like state, he was conscious enough to know that none of his friends would visit him this early in the morning. There was no one that-

Phil's eyes flew open, realization breaking through the sleepy haze in his mind. He blinked repeatedly against the sunlight and groaned loudly, grumbling incomprehensibly as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Fuck.”

“Phil,” Dan whispered with wide eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Phil groaned tiredly. “Again?” He stretched his arms and let out a satisfied moan. “Ah, that feels good,” he murmured, opening his eyes slowly. He turned to Dan and blinked in surprise. “Hmm? Why are you crying?” he asked in utter confusion.

Dan sniffed. “I thought you died.”

“What?” Phil snorted in disbelief. “Why would I die?”

“You were unconscious on the floor,” he frowned. “You're weird.”

Phil sighed and his gaze softened. “Don't worry. I won't die that easily.”

Dan nodded. “I'm hungry,” he whispered in a quiet voice, wiping his eyes.

“Mm.” Phil scratched his head absently and yawned. “Wait a bit. I'll make something for breakfast.” Phil stilled abruptly and blinked in realization, his gaze drifting to the sunlight pouring in through the window. “You're here in the morning. You're stuck here for the whole day.”

Dan nodded guiltily, fidgeting with his sleeves. “Sorry.”

Phil stared at him pensively for a few quiet moments and sat upright, crossing his legs. “I know you don't want to tell me but–” He bit his lip and hesitated. He already knew he wouldn't get an answer. “–it's been almost three months since I first saw you in the alley down the street. I don't mind helping you, but you keep coming back with bruises all over your body.”

Dan lowered his brown eyes, staring at his hands. Phil watched him fidget with his sleeves quietly, and he recognized Dan's common habit. He fidgeted whenever he was nervous.

“Hey,” Phil said in a calm voice, placing a hand on Dan's knees. “I'm asking because I'm worried about you. What's going on, Dan?” Dan chewed on his bottom lip, staring at the floor, and Phil pressed, “Can you tell me?”

Dan swallowed and turned away. “Sorry, I should leave,” he whispered before leaping to his feet and stepping towards the window.

Phil blinked incredulously and leaned forward, grasping Dan's wrist in shock. “Wait, no!” he exclaimed quickly, “I won't ask!”

Dan pursed his lips and stiffened, remaining quiet. “I won't ask, okay?” Phil affirmed cautiously and sighed. “It's fine. You don't have to leave.”

Dan stared at his feet in silence. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled in a guilty tone. “I can't tell you.”

Phil let go of his hand, rising to his feet swiftly. He gazed at Dan's rigid, remorseful demeanour, and he didn't know what to think. Something was wrong with Dan. He was hiding something, something important. Dan was, without a doubt, involved in something dangerous and risky. Phil was about to be involuntarily dragged into it, and there was nothing he could do. Phil couldn't let him go, but he couldn't let him stay either. He was stuck in an impossible predicament.

~*~

The kitchen was quiet in the morning, a cold silence hanging in the air as Phil worked quietly, his heart beating at a steady, calm pace. Sighing softly to himself, Phil cracked two eggs into the bowl and whisked it into a smooth batter. There were small, thudding noises of footsteps behind him, and he turned around just in time to notice Dan shuffling into the kitchen in clean clothes. “Hey,” Phil greeted cheerfully, proceeding to pour Dan some tea.

Dan nodded and dropped into a chair, blinking up at Phil. His hair was wet and sticking up in all different directions. Phil had to fight back an amused laugh that threatened to break out of his mouth. He added three teaspoons of sugar into Dan's tea and stirred it quietly, placing it down in front of Dan. Dan grinned brightly, and Phil stared at him silently.

Dan wrapped his fingers around the mug. His lips were pink and stretched into a smile, his eyes a vivid brown. His wings glistened, wet with little silvery beads of water. He looked like a beautiful angel, and Phil's eyes drifted down Dan's face to his pale neck and sharp collar bones, eyes unwavering as he watched. Dan took a long sip and sighed in satisfaction. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and he gave Phil a bright, blinding grin. “Thank you,” he said cheerfully.

Phil blinked and turned away. “You don't have to thank me for every little thing,” Phil expressed with a sigh, placing a plate of chocolate biscuits on the table. “Biscuits?” he asked with a smile. Dan nodded, snatching a biscuit off the plate and popping it into his mouth. “You really love sweet stuff, don't you?” Phil smiled fondly, his heart warm.

Dan nodded with enthusiasm, devouring another biscuit and giving Phil a bright grin. Phil smiled genuinely and something like affection flooded his chest. He turned back with a silent huff, placing the pan on top of the stove. Dan remained quiet as Phil worked, drinking his tea in silence. Sighing softly, Phil poured the batter on the pan and waited for it to cook, glancing back at Dan to find him staring at the pan curiously.

Phil smiled and turned back, flipping the pancake with a spatula. Dan padded over to him curiously, staring at the half-cooked pancake. “What are you doing?” he inquired eagerly.

Phil flipped it again and answered softly. “Making pancakes for us to eat.” He transferred it to a plate and looked up at a wide-eyed Dan with raised eyebrows. “What?”

“Can I–Can I try?” Dan asked earnestly, his eyes wide and excited.

“Yeah, sure.” Phil shrugged and watched as Dan picked up the ladle excitedly and poured the batter haphazardly onto the pan. He looked back to Phil for approval, and Phil blinked. “Er, good. It looks great!”

Dan beamed and nodded, almost bouncing on his feet with excitement. His wings lifted behind his back and fluttered noisily as he stared at it in astonishment and pride. “What do I do now?” he asked excitedly, eyes bright.

Phil sighed, a small smile spreading on his face as he gazed at Dan, noticing his messy curls and the wild look of excitement in his eyes. “Flip it,” he explained, handing him the spatula. “Slide it under . . . like this, and flip, okay?”

Dan nodded in determination. “Okay,” he murmured, squinting his eyes as he focused on his task. Phil shook his head in exasperation and watched Dan's terrible attempt at flipping a pancake affectionately. Dan's eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, and his tongue poked out of his mouth as he stared unblinkingly at the pan. He raised the spatula in a haste and flipped it so strongly that the pancake hit the ceiling and came tumbling to Phil's head.

Phil blinked, and there was a moment of utter silence where they just stared at each other. Phil remained still and quiet, staring at Dan's horror-filled face with a pancake on his head. “Oh no,” Dan whispered with wide eyes.

Phil's resolve cracked, and he burst out laughing, clutching his stomach and chortling so hard that his belly ached and his chest filled with warmth. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed this hard.

The pancake slid down his head and toppled to the floor. Dan pouted. “It's not funny. I was trying my best,” he mumbled irritably.

Dan's expression made him laugh harder, and he melted to the floor, almost heaving with mirthful laughter. “You're so stupid.”

Dan pouted, grabbing the ladle and hitting Phil's shoulder absently. A scoopful of batter flew out of the ladle and landed on Phil's face, halting his laughter immediately. Dan blinked and stepped back guiltily. “I'm sorry!”

“Are you serious?” Phil stared at Dan blankly, and the pasty liquid dripped from his expressionless face. Dan bit his bottom lip hard, looking like he was suppressing a laugh, but soon his mouth slowly spread into a bright, blinding grin. He tried to suppress his laugh again, but a few giggles left his mouth, and he immediately clamped a hand on his mouth.

Phil rolled his eyes and grabbed the ladle, raising it to pour on Dan's head. Dan's eyes widened, and he backed away, hobbling around the table to get away from Phil. “Where are you going?” Phil asked with a frown, following Dan with the ladle. “Come here.”

Dan blinked and hurried to get away. Phil dashed after him, tripping over his own feet and dropping to his knees. Dan grinned brightly and let out a small laugh. Phil huffed, “Shut up.”

Dan stood a safe distance away and grinned. “You're clumsy,” he announced, “Humans are clumsy weirdos.”

“No, we're not,” Phil protested weakly.

Dan snickered happily. “Yes, you are.”

“No, we're not,” Phil huffed and without thinking, swung the ladle to prove himself. The thick liquid splatted against Dan's wings.

Dan's giggles came to an abrupt halt, and he stared at Phil dumbly in absolute disbelief. He blinked repeatedly and touched his wings, his eyes widening in horror. “My wings!” he cried out in shock. “I just . . . I just cleaned . . .” He stopped and glared at Phil in fury.

Phil laughed at the look on his face. “Come on, Dan. Don't be a baby.”

“I'm not a baby.” Dan glared daggers at him. “You confuse me.”

Phil shrugged, moving towards the sink to clean his face. “Yes, you are,” he declared haughtily. “I don't deliberately confuse you. You're just a little dim-witted.”

“I'm not dim-witted!”

Phil waved absently, turning the tap on. “Really?”

“Yes!” Dan huffed in anger and launched forward, dipping his hands into the bowl and throwing some of the mixture on Phil's back. “You're just a confusing person!”

It hit Phil unexpectedly, and he stilled in his tracks, completely dumbstruck. He turned and noticed Dan grin in triumph.

Phil clenched his jaw and raised his eyebrows in challenge, rolling his sleeves. “Yeah? You really want to do this?”

Dan tilted his head in confusion, and Phil grabbed the bowl in anger. Dan's eyes widened, and he sprinted out of the room in panic. Phil dashed after him, chasing him around the living room. Dan's large wings crashed into furniture and knocked random items to the floor as he ran. Phil snubbed his toe against a wall and tripped over the carpet. Dan snickered. “Clumsy.”

Phil was infuriated and angry, but he had never laughed as much as he did at that moment.

Dan finally surrendered when Phil caught his wrist in the hallway, grinning widely, eyes bright and sparkling. “No!” Dan struggled to get out of his grip, covering his head. “Not my hair! Not my hair, please!”

Phil grinned a cruel grin and poured it directly on Dan's curly head, laughing when Dan yelped. “My hair,” Dan panted sadly, sliding to the floor and moving his fingers through his dirty hair. “You ruined it. It's all sticky.”

Phil heaved and took deep breaths. His chest felt heavy, and he sprawled on the floor tiredly, panting harshly.

“My hair . . .” he murmured again, wiping his sticky hands on his T-shirt.

“Just take a shower, you idiot,” Phil suggested with a huff. “It's not a big deal.”

“Don't call me an idiot,” Dan grumbled and pouted. Phil took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. Dan frowned at him but lay down on the floor next to him, copying him and staring up at the ceiling quietly. Minutes of peaceful silence passed, and Phil's lips stretched into a small smile. He turned his head and met Dan's eyes to see a strange expression on his face. “What?” he murmured silently.

Dan pointed to his hair. “You look weird.”

Phil smirked. “So do you.”

Dan shrugged wordlessly and turned away. Phil watched him quietly for a few minutes and disclosed, “You're different than I imagined.”

Dan furrowed his eyebrows. “How so?”

“I don't know,” Phil frowned thoughtfully. “Aren't winged men supposed to be violent and cruel? You're not really cruel.” Phil gave him a smile. “You're actually nice.”

Dan stared at him with wide eyes, his cheeks pink. “Nice?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed honestly, “You're cute, polite and fun to be around. I quite like you actually. You're nice.”

“Cute?” Dan murmured quietly with wide eyes. “Fun? You like me?”

Phil scooted towards the wall and sat up, pushing back his glasses. “Yeah,” he answered absently, standing up slowly. He looked down at Dan and opened his mouth to suggest a shower.

He was interrupted by loud knocks on his front door. The sound of the doorbell made him clench his jaw shut, and he blinked in surprise. The noise of harsh bangs on the door echoed throughout the empty hallway, and Phil's eyes widened as he looked at Dan. “Get up!” Phil hissed quickly, hands shooting out to help Dan back to his feet.

Dan stumbled forward with wide eyes, and Phil grabbed his shoulder and forced him into the nearest room, shoving him inside. “Stay here. Hide! Don't make any sound and don't come out until I tell you to,” Phil relayed urgently, hands shaking and breaths panting in anxiety.

“Why? What's–” Phil slammed the door shut and stepped away, stopping dead in his tracks. He breathed deeply and told himself to calm down. He felt a stab of sympathy for Dan, and he halted in his path. Swallowing with difficulty, he opened the door and marched back to Dan. Dan looked anxious and worried, biting his lip as he stared at Phil with huge, frightened brown eyes.

Phil swallowed and grabbed his hands, squeezing them reassuringly. “Listen, don't be scared. It's alright. Whoever it is, I won't let them come inside. I'll handle it,” Phil explained softly, hiding how flustered he was. “Just wait here, okay? Can you do that for me?”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip but nodded. “Okay,” he whispered slowly and hesitated for a split second before adding, “I trust you.”

Phil blinked in surprise but then a rush of warmth spread through his chest. He nodded in determination, closing the door and trudging into his living room. He wracked his brains for an acceptable excuse, his thoughts running a thousand miles a minute. It was most definitely either Anthony or PJ, and they wouldn't listen to him at all. They usually barged in without notice, and there was no way Phil could hide anything from them.

Chewing nervously on his bottom lip, he took off his T-shirt hastily and wiped his face and hair with it. A brilliant idea formed in his mind, and he mussed up his hair deliberately, rubbing his cheeks vigorously to turn them red.

Taking deep breaths and pretending to be flustered, Phil opened the door a little bit, acting like he was embarrassed. He blinked awkwardly at PJ when he saw him standing akimbo in front of his door. “PJ,” he breathed shakily, standing half-naked. “Hey.”

“Why is your door locked? You never lock–” PJ stilled and furrowed his eyebrows, staring at his messy hair and naked torso, crinkling his nose in disgust.

Phil pretended to be embarrassed and mumbled, “Sorry, I'm a bit busy. Can we talk later?”

“Oh god, sorry,” PJ apologized quickly, “Chris was right then. You have a new boyfriend?”

Phil scratched his head. “Er . . .” He bit his lip and pretended to look back anxiously.

PJ huffed. “Don't worry. I'm leaving. I just wanted to borrow your charger,” he explained exasperatedly, “I can't find mine.” His gaze turned sharp, and he folded his arms across his chest. “You've been very secretive lately. Chris told me you haven't been replying to his texts or calls.”

“Sorry, I, uh–” Phil racked his brain for a believable excuse. “I'm . . . I'm busy.”

PJ snorted. He looked Phil up and down and raised a graceful eyebrow. “I can see that.”

Phil bit his lip and gave him a flustered grin, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Wait here. I'll get the charger.”

Phil turned without waiting for an answer and ran back to the living room. He quickly grabbed the charger and returned, taking a deep breath. “Here,” Phil huffed, handing him the charger.

PJ sighed exasperatedly. “What's going on, Phil? Are you dating a celebrity or something?”

“Celebrity, my ass,” Phil muttered in resignation, closing the door. “Go away. I'm busy.”

“Asshole,” PJ shot back, kicking the door.

Phil snorted and locked the door, standing there in silence for a few minutes. He breathed deeply and exhaled in absolute relief. He felt lucky. PJ was usually persistent. He sighed and distantly wondered how long he could hide Dan in his home.

~*~

  
The rest of the tedious day went by in a blur, and Phil spent the day scribbling his novel as usual. Dan had returned back to his room and fallen asleep on the bed, seemingly exhausted from their undignified tussle. He remained unconscious for the rest of the day, only coming outside late in the evening. He looked sleepy and bored, and Phil determined that Dan needed some entertainment.

Phil spent the rest of the evening with Dan snuggled up near him on the sofa, cocooned inside a blanket and eyes fixed on the screen. When the movie ended and the credits started to play, Phil turned it off and strolled into his kitchen, followed by a weepy Dan who spewed out a million questions into the air, impatiently bouncing on his feet, waiting for Phil's answer. Phil explained the zombie movie as calmly as possible until Dan was satisfied.

“More sugar,” Dan mumbled when Phil concluded his explanation, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he pushed his tea away.

“No,” Phil huffed exasperatedly, folding the cuffs of his shirt and scrubbing the dishes in the sink. “You eat too much sugar.”

“This tastes like vomit,” Dan frowned sulkily.

“Then don't drink it,” Phil shrugged.

“I want sugar,” Dan huffed quietly. “Please?”

“No.”

Dan pouted sadly, and Phil focused his attention back on the plate in his hand, scrubbing it clean and rinsing it under the water. He placed the plate in the dish rack and turned just in time to see Dan sneakily adding an unfathomable amount of sugar into his tea. As he soon as he noticed Phil, he grinned brightly and Phil rolled his eyes with a fond smile. Dan was . . . Dan was cute sometimes.

Dan's eyes were bright as he happily sipped his tea, padding over to Phil when he was done. “What are you doing?”

“Can't you see?” Phil questioned quietly, rinsing another bowl under the water.

Dan blinked and stared at Phil's hands for a long while, focusing on the way Phil was cleaning the bowls and spoons. “Can I help?” he asked at last.

Phil nodded. “Just help me dry it . . .” he explained, pointing at the towel. Dan nodded eagerly and took the plate from Phil's hands, wiping it with the towel. When he was done, he showed the shining plate to Phil and grinned brightly.

Phil smiled, and his eyes involuntarily slipped down to Dan's neck. He was wearing a loose T-shirt which was hanging down his shoulder, revealing his soft skin. It was unbelievably pale . . .

Phil turned away and grabbed another bowl, clearing his mind. They slipped into a comfortable silence, working quietly. It was late at night. The sound of the water and the small hum of the refrigerator were the only sounds in the kitchen. The moment was pure and peaceful, and Phil's heart was calm. His lips stretched into a smile, and he felt a strange warmth in his stomach.

“Can I . . . um . . .” Dan mumbled in a very quiet voice, sounding dejected.

“Hmm?” Phil looked up. “What? Did you say something?”

“Um, can I ask a question?” Dan muttered shyly, avoiding Phil's eyes.

Phil furrowed his eyebrows and smiled confusedly. “Yeah. Of course.”

Dan nodded timidly. “That–that guy in the morning,” he whispered silently, wiping a bowl.

“Who?” Phil asked, eyes on the pan he was scrubbing. “PJ?”

“Yeah,” Dan mumbled, and Phil furrowed his eyebrows at his nervous tone of voice. “Who was he?”

“He's my friend,” Phil emphasized confusedly.

“Friend?”

Phil frowned. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” Dan nodded, and he immediately brightened, his cheeks turning bright pink. “Good.”

Phil tilted his head in suspicion and peered over Dan's shoulder to look at his fluttering wings. “You're weird,” he declared, shaking his head.

Dan shrugged and smiled a secretive smile, placing the bowl in the dish rack. Phil rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his job. A few minutes went by in silence before Dan spoke up again in a small, vulnerable voice, “Can I ask another question?”

Phil sighed exasperatedly. “You can ask as many questions as you'd like.”

Dan smiled and nodded, hands stilling and gaze avoiding Phil. He chewed on his bottom lip and murmured nervously, “Am I . . . am I your friend?”

Phil blinked, lowering his hands slowly and turning to Dan. “Do you want to be?”

Dan deliberately avoided his eyes, staring at his feet and fidgeting restlessly with his fingers. Phil's heart filled with warmth. He wasn't expecting the question, but he knew the answer. “Yeah, you are,” Phil replied softly with a smile.

Dan looked up immediately, eyes a vivid brown and cheeks flushed with joy as he beamed widely. Phil huffed with an exasperated smile. He shook his head and focused back on his task. Dan scooted closer to him and their elbows touched as they worked in silence. Phil's mind was calm, and he felt completely at ease. He was beginning to truly enjoy being with Dan, and he was also beginning to realize that it was not a good thing.

“I should go,” Dan announced after they were done with the dishes.

Phil looked up. “Already?

“Yeah,” Dan murmured quietly.

Phil blinked, and he felt a little bit sad for some strange reason. “Okay.”


	12. It's a celebration

Phil spent the next few days occupying himself with different unfinished tasks and keenly waiting for Dan to show up again. He attentively cleaned his apartment and organized his closet, placing his things precisely with concentration. He sent a rough draft of his novel to Chris and devoted his time to reading fan mails. He made a brand new video and uploaded it to his YouTube channel, spending hours and hours replying to comments and emails.

When Dan didn't make an appearance for an entire week, Phil began to worry. He kept his window wide open and jerked back at the slightest of sounds. He tried to stay positive and stayed engrossed in his work all day. He tried not to think too much about it. He kept himself engaged with various never-ending chores and spent time with his friends daily. He was thoroughly immersed in his life, and he wasn't thinking about Dan too much . . .

But sometimes . . . sometimes, he couldn't help but stare out of his window and wait for Dan. He was ashamed to admit that he . . . he missed Dan a little bit.

He told himself many times that this was for the better. Dan visiting him frequently was risky, but he couldn't accept it when he didn't know where Dan was. He wouldn't mind if Dan never came to meet him again. He was more concerned that Dan might've been caught by Hunters. Dan didn't deserve that, and Phil wouldn't stand back and watch it happen.

After an entire month of no sign of Dan anywhere, Phil seriously began to worry. He paced back and forth in his bedroom, peered out of the window in the evening and restlessly rolled around in his bed at night. He considered the possibilities of Dan getting caught and stressed himself out even more. He just wanted to receive some kind of information about whether Dan was safe or not. He had begun to care for Dan just a little bit. He slightly missed watching movies with Dan. He missed teasing him and answering his endless questions just a tiny tiny bit . . .

“Dammit,” Phil muttered to himself, staring at the ceiling. He turned to his side exasperatedly and huffed, closing his eyes and trying his best to fall asleep.

Unfortunately, in that exact moment, his phone began blaring loudly, cutting through the odd silence in the room. Groaning loudly in frustration, Phil picked it up, placing it against his ear. “What?” he grumbled in annoyance.

“Phil!” Anthony exclaimed loudly. “Come over. We're having a small party.”

“No. Thanks. Good night,” Phil muttered robotically, already moving his phone away from his ear to hang up.

“No, wait!” Phil stilled and sighed. “Come on, man. Don't be like that. I'll introduce you to my co-workers. Come over.”

“Co-workers?” Phil stiffened and frowned suspiciously. “You mean Hunters?”

“Yeah,” Anthony slurred, “We're all here. There's food and drinks and music. What else do you want? Get your ass over here quickly.”

“It's night time. We're not allowed to be outside,” Phil stated tartly. In an effort to gain more information, Phil had asked Anthony many times to introduce him to other Hunters. Anthony had, of course, refused. This sounded like the opportunity of a lifetime.

“Don't be a dick,” Anthony grunted irritably. “We live in the same building. Besides, no one has to know.”

Phil smirked. “Isn't it illegal to have a party at night?”

“I don't care!” Anthony groaned in vexation. “Are you coming or not? You gotta have some fun once in a while, Phil. Your brain will rot if you stay cooped up in your room all day. It's depressing. Come on, mate!”

Phil sighed exasperatedly, inspecting his chipped nails in silence. He could hear the music and chatter in the background as Anthony talked. With a quiet huff, Phil agreed, “Fine. See you in five minutes.”

Anthony cheered obnoxiously and shouted, “PJ, Phil's coming too!”

~*~

“What's going on?” Phil furrowed his eyebrows, entering Anthony and PJ's small apartment. The living room was crowded but there weren't too many people, at least not as much as Phil was expecting. It looked like a small gathering. The walls were decorated heavily with different coloured lights, and the windows were shut tightly. People were scattered here and there in small groups, holding drinks in their hands. Some were having quiet conversations, and some were playing games. The music was low and tolerable, and the chatter was hushed and quiet. It didn't look too exciting . . .

“It's a celebration, darling,” Louise slurred unpleasantly over her shoulder as she walked by him, giving him a drunken smile.

Phil raised his eyebrows. “Looks more like a funeral to me,” he muttered under his breath.

“Well, we have to be very quiet since it's technically illegal,” Anthony clarified unhappily, handing him a glass of whiskey. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Phil mumbled absently, his gaze sweeping across the room. There were a lot of people, but none Phil recognized. He was regretting his decision to come.

“Come on, I'll introduce you as promised,” Anthony remarked absently, leading him towards the sofa. 

Phil squinted his eyes and noticed two familiar faces, frowning in confusion when he couldn't remember where exactly he had seen them. They were sitting together on the sofa, seemingly engaged in quiet conversation. One of them was tall and muscular with blonde hair and a sharp jawline. He was strikingly attractive. As Phil watched curiously, he threw his head back and let out a deep, confident laugh. Phil immediately wondered if he was single . . . and gay.

Both of them looked up when Anthony walked up to them, followed closely by Phil. “Guys,” Anthony announced, throwing an arm around Phil's shoulder affectionately. “This is my best friend, Phil Lester.” Phil rolled his eyes with a sigh and elbowed him in the stomach. “He lives next door. Phil, these two are my amazing partners, Ethan–” He pointed to the blonde guy. “And James!”

James was a skinny, jolly-looking man with blue eyes and black curly hair. He waved cheerfully at Phil, and Ethan smiled politely. “Hey.” 

Phil frowned at them and something clicked in his mind. He was sure he had seen them before but where . . . Wait, they were the same Hunters he had encountered months ago while helping Dan! His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to ask but before he could, someone shouted, “Anthony!”

Anthony let go of him and turned with a frown, staring back at a group of women near the kitchen. They were giggling amongst each other and pointing at Anthony. One of them waved and called Anthony over. “What?” Anthony asked tartly, strolling over to them and leaving Phil alone. 

Phil sighed softly, already regretting his tasteless decision to come here. He huffed in resignation and sat down near Ethan. Ethan furrowed his eyebrows. “Have we met before?” he asked in confusion. “Sorry, I'm a little drunk. I honestly can't tell.”

James squinted his eyes and frowned at Phil, blinking in realization. “Oh, we met you while we were on patrol, right? At night?”

Phil sighed nervously. “Er, yeah.” 

Ethan's gaze filled with recognition. “Oh, yeah. That's right.”

Phil nodded awkwardly and took a sip of his drink, sighing in relief when he felt the cold liquid slide down his throat. He adjusted his glasses with slightly shaking fingertips and surveyed the room anxiously. He felt strangely out of place among Hunters. After all, he was secretly protecting someone they wanted to harm. He felt like a traitor. “So,” Phil uttered sourly. The music was too low and it was irking him. “What's happening? Isn't this illegal?”

“Hmm?” Ethan turned away from James to look at him. “Yeah, it is.”

Phil frowned in confusion. A group of guys behind him burst into laughter, and Phil turned back just in time to notice them chatting jovially with a beautiful young lady. He sighed and turned back to Ethan. “How will you get home? You can't leave at night.”

“Some of us can. We're Hunters.” James shrugged. “Those who can't leave will sleep here and leave in the morning.”

“Oh,” Phil nodded, eyes scanning the crowded room. Many of them were still in their uniforms, gadgets and equipments still strapped to their waists. “But why? Why did you decide to have a party tonight?”

James grinned and raised his glass joyfully. “It's a celebration!”

Phil frowned in utter confusion and placed his glass on the coffee table. The guys behind him roared with laughter again, and he glanced back in annoyance. The girl was apparently kissing all of their cheeks. _Weird._

_“_ Celebration?” Phil asked in puzzlement, “Are they all Hunters?” He pointed towards a group of men in the corner in normal clothing.

“Yeah,” Ethan answered with a nod. “Off-duty,” he explained.

“Hmm.” Phil narrowed his eyes doubtfully. “What exactly are we celebrating?” he asked tartly and huffed. “Why am I part of this celebration?”

Ethan smiled gleefully. “We're celebrating–”

“Hey,” someone slurred from behind Phil. He turned his head in confusion just in time to notice the weird girl plop down next to him. She had bright pink hair and large golden earrings. She grinned brightly at Phil and scooted closer to him, her eyes glazed over and droopy. She was wearing a tight little black dress, and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. 

“I'm Theodora. Everyone calls me Dora,” she drawled drunkenly, hugging Phil's arm and grinning at him sluggishly. “Like Dora The Explorer!” she giggled drowsily.

“Er . . .” Phil raised his eyebrows at her odd behaviour and turned his questioning glance to Ethan. Ethan shrugged, looking amused. Phil frowned irritably. “Do I know you, Theodora?” he asked briskly.

“No,” she giggled, her eyes barely open. “But I bet you want to.” She batted her long black eyelashes. “I noticed you looking at me.”

Phil snorted derisively and scooted away from her. “Uh, no. Thanks.” 

Dora pouted and grabbed his arm, shoving her breasts in front of him. “Why not?” 

Phil gave her a blank look. “I was looking at you because you were being noisy,” he responded sharply. “I'm not interested. Sorry.”

Dora puffed her lips, and she looked way too drunk to function like a normal human being. “Why?” she drawled like a child, squeezing his arm. “Why are you not interested?”

Phil's patience was wearing thin. “Were you dropped on your head as a child?” he asked in annoyance, pushing her away. “I'm gay. Leave me alone.”

“Oh,” Dora sulked sadly, and Phil moved away quickly, shifting closer to Ethan. She looked around dreamily for a while and grinned, her eyes twinkling brightly. “Jamie!” she giggled loudly, standing up and dropping to his lap. She placed a huge wet kiss on his cheek and smiled happily.

James yelped, pushing her away in disgust. “Dammit, Dora. You do this every time you get drunk!” he shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling her away. “Go to sleep!”

“What the fuck is wrong with her?” Phil muttered rhetorically, staring at James and Dora as they walked away.

“Oh, she's not always like that, I promise. She's our friend,” Ethan laughed in amusement. “She's just insufferable when she gets drunk.”

Phil sighed tiredly and nodded weakly, grabbing his glass and taking long gulps. His body immediately relaxed, and he turned to Ethan solemnly. “So, what's this all about?”

Ethan shrugged and leaned back comfortably. Phil's eyes trailed down his neck to his exposed collar bone, lingering on his pale skin. The question arose in his head for the second time. Was Ethan gay? “We're celebrating Anthony and PJ's accomplishment.” Ethan was definitely his type.

Phil raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “What exactly did they accomplish?”

Ethan smiled and leaned forward to whisper, “This is supposed to be a top-secret, but we've been searching for a particular winged man for months.” Phil blinked incredulously, and his heart raced. “We finally caught him.” 

Ethan moved away with a joyous grin, and Phil's heart halted in his chest immediately. His eyes widened, and his hand shook slightly. He chewed on his bottom lip and fearfully placed his glass down on the table. The thought of Dan instantly popped into his mind. His brain flooded with a million worries, and he sat stiffly, staring at his feet in silence. 

“Anthony and PJ caught him, and they're getting promoted,” Ethan continued enthusiastically, telling Phil all about their marvellous achievements. “It's very hard to get promoted. Commander was very happy with them.”

Phil heard his words, but he was unable to process them. He didn't know where Dan was, and Dan hadn't shown up all month. If Hunters had arrested Dan, there was no way Phil would ever get to see him again. They would definitely lock him up in a solitary cell for the rest of his life. If the rumours were true, he would be the subject of various experiments and tests. PJ had denied the unbelievable rumours, but Phil felt oddly inclined to believe in them. 

Phil swallowed and his chest ached. Dan didn't deserve to be treated like an animal. Phil stilled and blinked. It was at this point that he truly realized how much Dan had grown on him. Dan was slightly silly and clueless most of the time, but he was also kind, strong-willed and steadfast in his beliefs. He refused to hurt people for blood, and Phil found his persistence admirable. No matter how annoying and childish Dan was, Phil truly considered him his friend. 

“What–” Phil interrupted Ethan's raving about their commander. “What did he look like?”

Ethan stopped and blinked. “Who?”

Phil bit his lip nervously. “The winged man,” he stated awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Ethan narrowed his eyes, and Phil jumped to explain, “Er, I've always been curious about winged people. I've never met one before!”

“Oh,” Ethan nodded. “I don't know. I wasn't there. Most of them look like you and I. They're just more violent and uncontrollable than us.”

“Oh,” Phil swallowed nervously. He looked around and examined the room quickly, searching for a reliable source of information. Anthony had a loud mouth, and the only person who would reveal anything was him. Currently, he was drunk and chatting up girls. Phil huffed helplessly and murmured, “Okay.”

Phil placed the glass on the table and stood up anxiously. He felt extremely worn out all of a sudden, and he was overwrought with concern. There was no reason for him to stay here anymore. He needed to be alone. “Er, I need to go,” Phil declared quickly, and Ethan raised his eyebrows. “I'll see you later?”

Ethan shrugged and nodded. “Yeah. Of course.”

Phil nodded swiftly and hurried towards the door, his heart in his mouth. He wished he had some way to contact Dan and ask him if he was safe. He had no way to do that, and he felt completely helpless.

“Ouch,” Phil yelped irritably, tripping over a discarded shirt on the floor. He clenched his jaw in annoyance and opened the door, marching down the hallway with concern clouding his mind. All he wanted to do was get home as quickly as possible and make himself a fresh cup of tea to calm down. He needed a clear head to think about things, or rather, his next course of action.

Phil jammed his key into the door lock and opened his door, closing it behind him. He inhaled deeply and sighed, furrowing his eyebrows. It had been a whole month since he had seen Dan. That had to mean that he was caught by the authorities. No other plausible explanation occurred to him, and he was thrown off balance. His mind was full of disconnected thoughts. He pondered on how to help Dan, already planning and strategizing inside his head. If it came down to it, he could ask Anthony for help. He would get extremely angry at Phil, but he would never refuse.

“Phil?”

Phil blinked in shock and looked up in confusion, his eyes widening in surprise. Dan was standing near the kitchen door with his hand inside a packet of crisps, wearing Phil's pyjamas and T-shirt. He chewed obnoxiously and tilted his head in confusion, staring at Phil with questioning eyes. “What's wrong?”

“What–” Phil stared at Dan in disbelief, stunned by Dan's casual tone of voice. “What are you doing?”

Dan blinked and looked down at the packet. “Oh,” Dan bit his lip sheepishly, “Sorry, I was hungry and you weren't here so I just–”

Phil breathed a huge sigh of relief, and he stepped towards Dan, pulling him into a tight hug. “Thank god,” he exhaled quietly, closing his eyes in relief. 

Dan stiffened immediately, but he stood still. Phil pulled back after a while and examined Dan's face with worried eyes. “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? What happened?”

Dan blushed and nodded. “No, I'm okay.”

Phil sighed in relief, and his heart was at ease. “Did you get caught?” he asked worriedly.

Dan shook his head. “No.”

Phil nodded gratefully. “Good. I was worried about you.”

Dan stared at his feet shyly. “Oh.”

Phil furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at Dan, analysing his face and his wet hair. “Did you take a shower?” he asked in amusement. “In my house?” Dan chewed on his bottom lip nervously. “Without telling me?”

Dan lowered his head in shame. “Sorry.”

Phil chuckled and ruffled his hair, giving him a small smile. “It's alright. Don't worry about it. Are you hungry? Wait, I'll cook something,” he said softly, moving past Dan to his kitchen. 

“Can we–” Dan began excitedly with wide eyes. “Can we watch a movie after that?”

Phil smiled affectionately. “Yeah. Of course.”


	13. You smell like the Sun

Phil awoke wearily the next morning and strolled into his kitchen tiredly, yawning sleepily. He scratched his stomach absently and staggered to the kitchen counter in order to make himself a fresh cup of tea. He had expected Dan to disappear tacitly like he usually did, but he was fairly surprised when he found Dan lounged on a chair in the kitchen. Dan looked sheepish and self-conscious, perched on the chair with his knees pulled to his chest. Phil stared at Dan dubiously and frowned in utter confusion, rubbing his eyes drowsily. “What are you still doing here?”

Unsurprisingly, Phil didn't get an answer, and he merely let out a small, exasperated sigh. He turned around promptly and proceeded to make tea for both of them, staying completely silent during the tiresome process. He could feel Dan glancing around nervously and fidgeting with his sleeves, but he didn't look back at him. He basked in the sweet morning silence and remained quiet for many moments.

When he was done, he deposited Dan's cup of tea in front of him and added another spoonful of sugar into it, stirring it quietly. “So,” Phil began finally, sitting down in front of Dan and raising a curious eyebrow. “What happened? You didn't show up for an entire month.”

Phil analysed Dan's face, frowning in concern. Dan looked skinnier than he did before. He was weak and pale, and he looked like he would drop dead any second. Phil shook his head at Dan in disappointment, turning his pitiful gaze away.

Dan wrapped his slim hands around his cup and bit his lip bashfully. “Um, I didn't want to be a nuisance.”

“And yet, here you are.” Phil murmured with a scoff, raising his eyebrows with an affectionate smile. “Being a nuisance again.”

Dan blushed in embarrassment and lowered his head in shame. “Sorry.”

Phil sighed deeply and explained softly, “Dan, you're not a nuisance. I was worried about you.” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Wait, why do you look–” He stopped abruptly, staring at Dan's face with his mouth agape. “Your eyes. Your eyes are yellow!” He frowned doubtfully, and his eyes wandered to Dan's stiff wings. His jaw immediately dropped in shock, and Dan tensed considerably, sitting rigidly in his seat. “What's wrong with your wings?”

Phil stood up abruptly, and his eyes widened in horror. He marched around the table hastily and stared at Dan's magnificent wings. That was when he noticed how awkwardly positioned and crumpled they were. His left wing was bent at an uncomfortable angle, and he was losing way too many feathers. “Did you–” Phil blurted in fear, his mouth agape in absolute shock. “Did you injure your wings?”

Dan flinched away, worrying his bottom lip roughly and fidgeting anxiously with his sleeves. “No, I just–”

“You injured your wings!” Phil cried with wide eyes. It was too dark the night before, and Phil hadn't noticed the crumpled state of his wings. Unabashedly, he stared at Dan's yellow eyes and wounded wings in shock. “Are you a fucking idiot?”

Dan stayed completely silent, his lips curled down as he stared at his hands. His eyes were glossy, and he looked like he was on the verge of tears. His defeated expression and slumped posture immediately calmed Phil down. He stared at Dan incredulously. “Is that why you didn't leave today?” he inquired with a frown, “Because you _can't_ leave.”

Dan sniffed sadly and gave him a guilty nod. Phil took a huge gulp of air and exhaled slowly. He stared at Dan's wounded wings for what felt like hours before sitting down beside Dan on a nearby chair. He took a deep breath to calm down, pushing back his glasses in thought. “Dan,” he explained cautiously, “This is dangerous.” He narrowed his eyes curiously. “You do know what yellow eyes mean, right? You're severely anaemic, and your body is shutting down.”

Dan bit his lip and turned away glumly. Phil continued in concern, “You're so weak, Dan. Even your wings are injured. You're sick.” He sighed softly. “What do you plan to do now?”

Dan didn't look at him. “I don't know.”

Phil swallowed in concern, keeping quiet for several strained moments. He leaned forward to inspect the injury, grimacing immediately. Dan shrank away in shame, making himself as small as possible. Phil rolled his eyes and sighed at him. “I wasn't worried about you before this because you're capable of flying in case an emergency arises . . . or if you ever get caught,” Phil disclosed truthfully, “Without your wings, you can't possibly survive out there.”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip quietly, staring at his hands emptily. “I know,” he mumbled in defeat. “I'm prepared to die.”

Phil stared at him for a while, completely baffled by his sudden disclosure. “Don't be an idiot.” He huffed exasperatedly. “I don't know what to do with you, Dan,” he admitted honestly with a soft sigh. “You never tell me anything, and I don't know how to help you.”

“I–” Dan swallowed dejectedly, avoiding Phil's eyes. “I'll leave. I'll walk. You don't have to worry about me. I can–”

“Do you think I'll be okay with that?” Phil sighed, watching Dan's skinny, skeletal body with a sad gaze, “I can't let you leave like this. You are injured. You refuse blood. You don't have a place to stay, and you're far too weak. You'll die out there.”

Dan pursed his lips, and there was a pensive silence for a long time. After several minutes of awkwardness, Phil finally furrowed his eyebrows and reached forward to touch Dan's injured wings. Dan jerked back quickly in absolute shock, eyes wide in terror as he let out a horrified gasp and gaped at Phil, as if he couldn't believe what Phil was doing.

Phil tilted his head in puzzlement and raised his eyebrows. “What? Let me see,” he murmured in a soft voice.

Dan stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes and blinked repeatedly. He looked appalled and there was outrage in his eyes. Phil gave him a confused look, leaning forward and brushing Dan's feathers with his fingertips. Dan immediately stiffened and balled his hands into tight fists. He blushed profusely and stared at his feet, looking extremely embarrassed. “Hm,” Phil muttered contemplatively, moving away with a frown. “It's not that bad but it'll take a few days to heal.”

Dan nodded without looking at him, and Phil continued, “Your abilities are not working properly, right?” Phil glanced at Dan and pursed his lips. Dan nodded, his cheeks unreasonably pink. “You need to regain your health. You need blood. This wouldn't have happened if you were healthy. I've heard that winged men have very powerful abilities.”

Dan looked up at the mention of blood. “No!” he refused instantly, glaring at Phil. “I don't need–”

“Your eyes are yellow. You're fucking dying, you utter imbecile!” Phil snapped in annoyance. “I'm risking everything by letting you stay, and the least you can do is co-operate!”

Dan's eyes widened, and Phil immediately realized what he had said. He stopped and blinked, sitting back with a huff. Dan stared at him in surprise. “You . . . you're letting me stay?”

Phil opened his mouth angrily but snapped his jaw shut quickly and sighed deeply. He rubbed his forehead in frustration and inhaled roughly. “Yes,” he answered finally with a huff. “You can stay until you're better. It'll be difficult to hide you, but I'll think of something.”

“You don't–” Dan fidgeted with his sleeves. “You don't have to do that.”

“What other choice do we have?” Phil sighed quietly. “You can't fly. You can't even stand on your own–”

“That's not true!” Dan protested and leapt to his feet. Almost instantly, he swayed slightly and gripped Phil's shoulder with both hands.

Phil gave him a blank look and wrapped his arms around Dan's waist, supporting him. He looked up, and Dan blushed. “I can't just let you leave when I know you're injured, Dan. You'll get caught before you leave the building,” he disclosed honestly, “You can repay me by helping me do the laundry or something, yeah? That'll be more than enough.”

Dan stared at him sadly, his shoulders stiff. He avoided Phil's eyes and nodded minutely, looking ashamed. “Thank you.”

~*~

Phil jolted awake abruptly, leaping to his feet unsteadily when he heard a startled scream. It was late at night, and the room was drowning in peaceful darkness. He felt off-balance and sleepy as he hurried out of the room. He switched on the lights in the hallway and padded over to the door, rushing inside to Dan's aid. 

Dan had slept all day but he had woken up for dinner. Phil had added drops of blood into it, and as per routine, they had watched a movie. Dan had asked his questions as usual before he went to sleep, and Phil had stayed up for a while to edit a video before deciding to call it a day. It had been a surprisingly normal day, and it was not what he had expected. 

“Are you alright?” Phil asked in concern. 

Dan was sitting up on his bed with tearful eyes. He panted harshly but slowly nodded. Phil furrowed his eyebrows and ambled to the window, opening the curtains. Bright moonlight poured into the room, and Phil walked back to Dan, sitting next to him. He extended his hand and gently brushed Dan's sweaty hair back from his forehead. “Bad dream?” he murmured quietly. “Again?”

Dan swallowed and nodded, taking deep breaths. Phil leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Dan reassuringly. Dan breathed heavily, and his wings fluttered restlessly. Phil's eyes drifted towards his wings and without conscious thought, he brushed the shiny feathers with his fingertips. Dan stilled like a rock instantly. There was silence for a long time, and Dan finally took a deep breath. He calmed down slowly, and his breathing returned to normal. Phil pulled back worriedly. “Are you okay?”

Dan blinked. “Yes.”

Phil nodded. “Good.” He rose to his feet and ruffled Dan's hair. “Do you need anything? Water? Tea?”

Dan shook his head and furrowed his eyebrows. “No.”

Phil nodded and gave him a comforting smile. “Go back to sleep then. Call me if you need anything else.”

Phil whirled around and let out a tired yawn, stopping immediately when he felt Dan's delicate fingers circling around his wrist. He blinked and looked down. “What's wrong?” he asked confusedly. 

Dan blushed a little, and his slender fingers tightened around Phil's wrist. “Can you stay with me?” he asked hopefully, biting his lip. “For a while?” He looked away and murmured in embarrassment, “I . . . I'm lonely.” 

Phil stared at Dan's embarrassed face in surprise and felt something painful twist in his heart. He knew it took a lot of courage to admit something like that, and a huge amount of fondness spread through his chest. He sighed softly and sat back down. “Yeah. Sure.”

Dan let go of his hand and smiled gratefully, a beautiful sad smile that tugged at Phil's heartstrings for some odd reason. “Thank you,” he mumbled and lay down silently, staring up at the ceiling in relief.

Phil stared at the window, gazing at the starry sky outside. The room was too quiet, a sense of gloom hanging in the air like a foul smell. “You're very honest, aren't you? I admire that,” he whispered with a huff. His back felt stiff, and he scooted closer to Dan. Sighing softly, he lay down beside Dan on the bed, staring up at the ceiling like Dan.

Dan shrugged. “My mom . . . ” he trailed off wistfully, and Phil's heart sank. Dan bit his lip, and Phil waited patiently. For some reason, he wanted to reach out and touch Dan, but he did his best to resist the inexplicable urge. Dan swallowed roughly and continued, “When I was young, my mom always used to tell me that I should never lie about my feelings.”

“Yet, you lied to me loads of times,” Phil mumbled teasingly, tilting his head to look at Dan. 

Dan turned to him and pouted angrily. “That was different.”

Phil couldn't help but smile. He wasn't bothered by the proximity between their faces. He simply looked at Dan quietly, noticing his bright brown eyes and pink cheeks. Phil had always been aware of how beautiful Dan was with his magnificent black wings, but . . . but there was something about his eyes. For the first time, Phil noticed that his eyes were an unsettlingly deep shade of brown, with little flecks of silver and gold in between. They were innocent and warm like the sun-kissed earth. 

“What?” Dan whispered confusedly, his face close and his forehead almost touching Phil's. 

Phil blinked repeatedly and turned away, releasing a breath. “Nothing.”

Dan frowned dubiously. “Okay.” 

Phil stared at the ceiling in silence. He could feel Dan's stare, but he didn't say anything. After a while, Dan spoke up again, his voice bashful, “Your smell . . . ” he trailed off, biting his lip.

Phil blinked at the unexpected words and turned to Dan in surprise. “What about my smell?” he whispered curiously.

Dan flushed but he shuffled closer, staring at Phil with a strange look in his eyes. “You smell like the sun.”

Phil raised his eyebrows. “I do?”

Dan nodded and his cheeks were bright pink. Phil's eyes wandered all over his soft face, and he swallowed tensely. “What does the sun smell like?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“Warm . . .” Dan murmured shyly, “And safe.”

Phil blinked in surprise, and he didn't know what to say. “Oh.”

Dan nodded. “When I . . . when you helped me in the alley, I could tell that you didn't mean any harm,” he mumbled quietly, “You smelled safe.”

Phil swallowed wordlessly. “Oh.”

Dan nodded soundlessly. There was a calm silence for several minutes, and Phil stared at Dan, observing his tousled brown hair and the adorable shape of his nose. He was almost lost in Dan's angelic features when Dan spoke up again, his eyes fixed on Phil. “How do you know if you're in love?”

Phil snapped out of his thoughts abruptly and blinked repeatedly in shock. “What?”

Dan was looking at him curiously, his little curls falling over his bright eyes. His face glowed in the moonlight, and Phil's eyes involuntarily slipped to his shoulder. His shirt was loose, slipping down his shoulder and exposing his pale, milky-white skin. He was too close . . . He turned away quickly and breathed deeply. He really needed to masturbate more often. This was risky. 

“Er, why do you ask?” he inquired curiously, breathing deeply to control himself. He made a mental note to jerk off in the shower in the morning. It helped him to calm down.

“The movie we saw today . . . It made me curious.” Dan shrugged and blushed. “I just . . . I just want to know . . .” He avoided Phil's eyes and fidgeted with his sleeves. “Have you–have you ever been in love?”

Phil glanced at Dan's long sleeves which were covering his fingers and he frowned quickly. It was one of his major pet peeves, and he absently scooted closer to Dan. Their temples almost touched, and he ignored it as best as he could. He took Dan's hand into his and began rolling up his sleeves. He contemplated the question for a while and answered, “Yeah, a few times.”

“Oh,” Dan murmured quietly. Phil rolled Dan's sleeves up to his elbows and inspected Dan's hand absently, frowning at the little scars on his fingers. “I haven't,” Dan revealed dejectedly.

“Don't worry too much about it,” Phil turned and gave him a small smile, squeezing Dan's soft hand. It felt oddly delicate against his own rough palm. “It'll happen someday.”

Dan stared at him with wide eyes and blushed, biting his lip, his cheeks a bright shade of red. “Um . . . you're too close.”

Phil blinked, and his eyes immediately dropped back to Dan's neckline, gaze wandering down from the curve of his jaw to the length of his neck and milky skin below. It was all far too close to his lips, and he jerked back instantly, his eyes wide. “Sorry,” he muttered quickly, letting go of Dan's hand and scooting away.

Phil swallowed, and he felt strangely nervous and embarrassed. He rubbed his forehead awkwardly and kept quiet. He could feel Dan fidgeting next to him, and there was a weird, unnerving silence for a long time. Finally, after many excruciating minutes of silence, Dan murmured, “Thank you for letting me stay here.”

Phil sighed softly and nodded. “It's fine, Dan.”


	14. A day with you

When Phil slowly recovered consciousness the very next morning, he noticed that there was something heavy on his chest. He blinked his eyes open with a frown and stared at the ceiling in utter disorientation. It wasn't his familiar bedroom ceiling, and he furrowed his eyebrows confusedly. When he inevitably remembered, his eyes widened in surprise and he looked down. Dan was fast asleep and using his chest as a pillow. His mouth was open just a little, and Phil huffed quietly, rolling his eyes with a fond smile.

Dan's pale, sleeping face was adorable. His black eyelashes were resting on his cheeks, and his curly locks framed his small face. His lips were a dark pink, and Phil couldn't help himself. He reached forward subconsciously and poked Dan's cheek with his forefinger. It was unbelievably smooth, and Phil raised his eyebrows in surprise, squishing it just a little. Dan made a distressed noise, and it snapped him back to reality. His eyes widened, and he was baffled at himself. He frowned and pulled his hands back. Slowly, he tried to sit up and crawled away, holding Dan's curly head gently and lowering him to the bed.

Phil sighed in relief and stretched his arms with a satisfied groan, strolling lazily to the window. He closed the curtains to block the sunlight and quietly sauntered out of the room to his bathroom. He spent the next few minutes completing his daily morning routine with an absent mind, marching quietly to his kitchen when he was done. It was still early, but he wanted to make food for Dan before he woke up. Dan refused blood no matter how much Phil tried to persuade him. Dan would never get better without blood. 

According to his research, winged men needed to consume a cupful of blood every week to survive. They were capable of ingesting normal food as long as they fulfilled their weekly demand of blood. They required blood in order to digest normal food. If a winged man consumed only normal food and refused blood or vice versa, he wouldn't be able to survive. Winged people needed both food and blood to remain healthy.

Phil had agreed to let Dan stay because there was no other choice. As long as Phil kept the door locked, Dan would be safe here. Still, Phil was only capable of accommodating Dan for a short time. He would have to inevitably ask Dan to leave in a few days. If he wanted Dan to regain his health before that, he would have to add little drops of blood into everything Dan consumed. Determined by the thought, Phil set to work.

Phil's mind was occupied by various thoughts as he worked. He strategized and made plans which would help him keep his friends away. He decided to shoot them a text and tell them he was busy with work and didn't want to be disturbed. If Dan was going to stay for a few weeks, he would need clothes . . . Phil sighed exasperatedly, and his hand stilled above the toast. He made plans quickly to go shopping in the evening. He would need to buy some more fruits and vegetables for Dan. He furrowed his eyebrows thoughtfully and made a mental note to google what other nutritious food Dan would need later.

~*~

It took Phil roughly thirty minutes to prepare a healthy meal for Dan. He placed the plate on the table and set his tea down next to it, sighing with satisfaction. He looked up in the direction of Dan's room and frowned confusedly. Deciding to check on him, Phil strolled around the table and headed towards the hallway. He had heard the sound of the running shower while working, and he was sure Dan was awake. He wondered what Dan was doing and quietly strode down the hallway to stand in front of the door.

With a sigh, Phil lifted his hand and knocked silently. There was no sound coming from the other side, and he furrowed his eyebrows, opening the door quietly. Phil blinked and stilled at the sight, slightly surprised by what was in front of him.

Dan was standing in front of the mirror, his eyes squinted as he posed elegantly in different ways and inspected his black wings. He was wearing clean clothes (Phil's clothes), and his hair was slightly wet. He was brushing his shiny feathers over and over again, smoothing it with his fingertips. He twirled around and analysed his shimmery wings with a frown, sweeping his hand across the soft feathers and plucking a small awkwardly shaped one.

“Dan.” Phil blinked repeatedly in utter confusion. “What the hell are you doing?”

Dan stiffened up immediately, and his eyes widened comically. He whirled around in shock and stared at Phil in horror. His face instantly turned into a bright shade of red, and he looked like a child caught with a bowl of ice cream at midnight. “You–” he choked out as he glared at Phil. He blushed furiously and let go of his wings awkwardly “You should've knocked!”

Phil frowned. “I did.” His gaze dropped to the floor, and his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. There was a huge heap of little feathers littered all across the floor. Realization dawned on him immediately. “Were you–” Phil suppressed an amused smirk. “Were you preening your feathers?”

Dan flushed. “Shut up!”

Phil rolled his eyes exasperatedly and stepped towards him, standing in front of him. He reached forward with his hand and brushed Dan's wings slightly. Dan immediately stilled like a statue, staring at the floor in complete silence. His wings were a shiny shade of black, soft like velvet under his fingertips. Phil swallowed in awe. “You don't have to,” he whispered silently. “Your wings are beautiful.”

Dan blinked repeatedly and stared up at Phil in admiration. His wings rose and fluttered wonderfully, and his face turned bright red. Phil suddenly realized how close they were standing. He could see the deep depths of Dan's bright brown eyes, and he could smell the delightful aroma of his shampoo from Dan's curly hair. “Are you–” Phil swallowed and asked quietly, feeling slightly uneasy for some reason, “Are you wearing lip gloss?”

Phil couldn't stand the proximity anymore. He pulled his hand back abruptly and stepped to the side, putting distance between them. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, and he wondered why he felt so weirdly nervous and uneasy all of a sudden. He had wanked in the shower a few hours ago . . . why was he still feeling this way?

“Yeah,” Dan answered with a small nod, “Sorry, it was on the table.”

“No, that's okay. It looks good on you,” he blurted thoughtlessly, glancing anxiously at the redness of his lips and looking away quickly. “It's not even mine. Louise probably left it here.”

Dan narrowed his eyes. “Louise?”

“Yeah.”

Dan frowned, and there was a questioning look in his eyes. “Who is Louise?”

Phil shrugged uncomfortably and ruffled Dan's hair absently. _Soft._ “A very important friend.”

“Important friend?” Dan's eyes widened, and he stared at Phil in bafflement.

Phil nodded, and there was complete silence for several minutes. Dan frowned at the floor quietly, and Phil finally turned away. “Come on, let's eat–”

“Am I important?” Dan asked suddenly with wide, earnest eyes, staring at Phil suspiciously.

Phil raised his eyebrows confusedly. “What?”

Dan huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Am I an important friend?”

Phil gave him a puzzled smile. “Yeah. Sure.”

Dan blinked, looking startled. He flushed red and nodded, his wings fluttering beautifully. “Okay.”

Phil flicked his forehead with an amused laugh, returning to his normal self. “Idiot.”

Dan rubbed his forehead and glared. “Don't call me that!” he shouted, “You just said—humans are confusing!” He huffed loudly and turned away, pouting sulkily.

Phil's lips automatically stretched into a smile, and his heart warmed. His hand moved involuntarily to pat Dan's curly head. “You're really cute,” he whispered softly, and Dan stilled immediately. “Like a dog.”

Dan looked up with a glare and slapped his hand away. “You're rude.”

Phil grinned brightly and let out a soft laugh. “Sorry about that,” he said sincerely. “I'm just messing with you.”

Dan pouted with a huff. “I don't like it.”

Phil smiled. “Sorry,” he whispered and turned away again. “Come on. You should eat something.”

Dan's angry expression melted at the mention of food, and he nodded eagerly. “Okay.”

~*~

Phil had made sure to add a few drops of blood into Dan's tea, and after consuming it, Dan had gone directly to sleep. He had looked slightly exhausted, and Phil had retreated to his room wordlessly. Dan ended up sleeping almost all day, waking up late in the afternoon. It was the first time Dan was in his home during the day. Usually, he arrived at night and left before Phil could wake up. Phil was in a slightly happy mood. He was undeniably glad to have someone in his lonely apartment. He rarely liked the silence, and when he thought about Dan keeping him company for the next few weeks, he felt cheerful. He was actively looking forward to it.

“What's this?” Dan asked in confusion, poking an alarm clock dubiously. He hadn't left Phil's side since he woke up from his long nap. He followed Phil everywhere and knocked random things to the floor.

“It's an old alarm clock,” Phil answered absently. He was sitting in front of his computer, researching about winged men's injuries. He was aiming to find information about treating Dan's wounded wings.

“Hmm,” Dan said thoughtfully and waddled over to another shelf, poking a random photograph with his forefinger. “Who's this?”

Phil sighed. “My mom.”

Dan turned and knocked a book to the floor. Phil huffed loudly, and he could see Dan in the periphery of his vision, frowning at random things. He looked a little more healthy and energetic than the day before, and Phil furrowed his eyebrows contemplatively. He couldn't find much information about treatments on the internet, but he knew that blood improved Dan's health and boosted his immune system.

Dan poked a snow globe Phil had received as a gift. “What's this?” he inquired with narrowed eyes, looking at it in suspicion.

“It's a snow globe, Dan,” Phil sighed deeply. “Will you sit down? You're making a mess.”

Dan pouted and sulked, but nodded obediently, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Phil sighed at him and turned back to the screen, clicking shut down. He was craving tea, and he decided to make some. He could feel Dan's fidgeting and huffing and puffing from behind him, and he rolled his eyes, whirling around to face him. “What?” he asked with a sigh.

Dan grinned brightly and pointed towards a painting on the wall. “What's that?”

Phil groaned loudly. “Are you doing that to annoy me?”

Dan frowned and tilted his head in confusion. “No.”

“It's a painting, Dan,” Phil told him with a loud huff. He turned his computer off and stood up from his seat quietly, stepping towards the door. He had a sneaking suspicion that Dan was deliberately following him everywhere, and he narrowed his eyes in determination.

Phil silently opened the door and marched down the hallway, closely followed by Dan. In his effort to test his theory, he stalked to the living room and randomly strolled around the sofa. He looked back and noticed Dan padding behind him silently, dragging his large wings across the floor. Phil's jaw dropped. “Why do you keep following me?!”

Dan blinked and pouted with a glare. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“I don't know!” Phil threw his hands up in frustration. “Sit somewhere!”

Dan frowned at him. “No, that's boring.”

Phil groaned in slight irritation. He really needed tea or else he was afraid he would combust into dust. He turned back with a grunt and stomped to his kitchen. He could hear Dan's tiptoeing footsteps behind him, and he rolled his eyes. He looked back with a frown, and Dan grinned at him brightly. Phil shook his head. “Weirdo,” he mumbled quietly and suppressed a small smile.

“I'm not a weirdo,” Dan huffed, dropping back into a chair. “You confuse me.”

Phil sighed exasperatedly and ignored it. “Do you want tea?” he asked instead.

Dan nodded with a grin. “With lots of sugar?”

Phil rolled his eyes and inhaled deeply to control himself. “Yes,” he answered tiredly.

Dan nodded eagerly, and there was sweet silence for a few moments as Phil prepared tea. “What do you do?” Dan asked all of a sudden.

Phil yawned in exhaustion and looked back at Dan in boredom. “What?”

“Don't you have a job?” he asked with a frown.

“I do,” Phil responded with a raised eyebrow. “I'm a writer and YouTuber.” He furrowed his eyebrows contemplatively. “Though I'm taking a break from both at the moment,“ he admitted with a sigh.

“Oh.” Dan nodded, but he looked thoroughly confused. “You write . . . books?”

“Yeah,” Phil confirmed, turning back and pouring milk into Dan's cup.

“What do you write about?” Dan asked curiously, tilting his head in confusion.

“I mainly write fantasy novels and sometimes erotic—stories, I mean. I write stories,” he amended quickly, putting it in a way Dan would understand.

“Hmm.” Dan nodded thoughtfully.

Phil smiled in relief at the innocent expression on his face and placed Dan's cup in front of him. “Do you want to watch a movie after this?”

Dan's face brightened, and he looked up with a gleam in his eyes. “Yes!”

~*~

“I liked the parrot,” Dan declared cheerfully as he walked down the hallway, munching on a candy bar Phil had given him. Phil had gone out in the evening to get groceries and to buy a few clothes for Dan. When he had seen the different varieties of chocolates and candies on the shelf, he had stopped in the aisle and grabbed some. He knew Dan had a sweet tooth, and he was excited to see his adorable reaction to it. He ended up regretting it deeply because Dan had become addicted to it in just a few minutes. “It was funny.”

Phil chuckled. “That was a chicken, Dan,” he clarified gently, gripping the doorknob of his bedroom. They had watched _Moana_ and this was the first time Dan had completely watched a movie without shedding an unfathomable amount of tears. He had cried when Moana's grandmother kicked the bucket, but he had slowly forgotten about her untimely demise as the movie progressed.

It was late at night, and Phil was feeling lethargic after a whole day of work. Dan had helped him with simple tasks. He had assisted Phil while he washed the dishes and offered to help when he was cutting vegetables. It still wasn't enough. Phil usually just consumed whatever he could find in his kitchen. This was the first time he had diligently prepared three full, healthy meals by himself. He was trying to help Dan as much as he could, but it was taking a toll on him.

“Well, good night then,” he yawned in exhaustion and opened the door.

“Wait!” Dan blurted hastily, grabbing the hem of his T-shirt abruptly and halting his movements.

Phil furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and turned to him. “What's wrong?” he asked sincerely.

Dan chewed on his bottom lip nervously, and his fingers tightened around the hem of Phil's T-shirt. Phil looked down and raised a curious eyebrow, observing Dan's flushed face. “Dan?”

Dan swallowed anxiously, and his wings fluttered slightly. “Can I, um . . .” he stumbled over his words awkwardly and bit his lip in embarrassment. “I want a . . .”

Phil frowned in puzzlement, and Dan looked up suddenly, his eyes filled with determination. Before Phil could think about what was happening, Dan tackled him into a hug, making him stumble back against the wall. He let out a surprised huff. “Whoa,” he exhaled and stilled completely.

There was a moment of utter silence, and Phil didn't quite know what to do. The hallway was dark, and there was no sound except for the quiet hum of their breathing. The air was chilly, and Dan's warmth flowed into him for a brief second. He sighed softly and hugged Dan back in confusion. “Dan,” he murmured quietly, “Are you alright?” 

Dan nodded against his shoulder and his arms tightened. “I am,” he whispered in a soft voice.

“Okay.” Phil nodded. “Good.”

Silence reigned supreme, and Phil remained quiet, a strange sensation slowly settling under the bottom of his stomach. Dan's arms were tight around him, and he smelled like sandalwood and Phil's shampoo. It was a unique, earthy smell that overwhelmed him. He couldn't decide whether to stay or leave. “It . . . It calms me,” Dan whispered timidly in a vulnerable voice. “Your smell.”

Phil blinked, and there was an awkward moment where he wasn't sure what the appropriate answer to _that_ would be. “Oh.”

Dan nodded and pulled back. “Good night,” he blurted with a blush and dashed past him, disappearing into his room without another word.

Phil stood there in the dark hallway for a few disorienting moments and blinked, rubbing his neck awkwardly with a deep sigh. “What a weirdo,” he mumbled with a small smile and turned away.


	15. I want to fly

Phil continued to discreetly mix little drops of blood into Dan's food everyday for the next few days. Dan spent the entire day sleeping in his room for the first several days. Consuming blood always seemed to make him extremely sleepy and exhausted. It took Phil a while to deduce that Dan's body was slowly trying to repair itself. When he realized it, he began to let Dan sleep peacefully without any noise or disturbance.

Dan's recovery was moving smoothly and steadily, and in just a few days, he became a little stronger than before. He slept less, and he slowly started to spend more time with Phil. He grew more energetic, and his health improved tremendously over the course of a single week. His wings were healing outstandingly due to the consumption of blood, and he started to hang around Phil more and more often.

Dan had regained enough strength to not want to nap all day, and he began to watch shows and movies to pass time. Days lapsed quicker than Phil could register, and his life got busier and busier due to Dan's presence. Dan was, unsurprisingly, a terrible guest. He would follow Phil around like an excited puppy and knock everything to the floor. He would poke and point at every little thing and ask what it was. His curiosity was adorable, but it annoyed Phil more often than not.

Slowly, Phil was getting to know him, and he was able to see different, interesting sides of him. Some facts about Dan were more noticeable than others, but overall, Dan was . . . extremely strange. There were things about him Phil didn't understand and conversations he found confusing.

Dan was incredibly stupid when it came to dealing with technology. He knew about the existence of washing machines and refrigerators, but he claimed to have never seen them. He was apparently homeless, but he wouldn't stop asking Phil why his closet was so small, and Phil just didn't have an answer.

He would spend hours and hours grooming himself, and he was obsessed with keeping himself neat and impeccable, but when it came to cleaning his surroundings, for some reason, he was surprisingly awful at it. He was horribly messy and bad at taking care of things. He shed feathers everywhere and knocked everything to the floor with his large wings, but his refined mannerisms and the way he carried himself was sometimes shockingly elegant.

It somehow reminded Phil of royalty, of the King of Winged men. Phil had seen a single video of him a long time ago, and he remembered the immaculate way he was dressed. Everything about the King, from the arch of his eyebrows to the fluidity of his movements, had been graceful and poised. Perhaps, self-admiration was common among winged men.

Dan was growing more and more comfortable around him, and Phil himself was beginning to see all of Dan's random perks. Dan's presence in his home was loud, chaotic and conspicuous. He was a little eccentric and addicted to sugar. It was undoubtedly fun to be with him, but despite that, Phil was always on edge, always afraid of someone noticing Dan in his apartment.

“Where is Hogwarts?” Dan asked in puzzlement, marching into the room late one night and tilting his head in confusion. He had been glued to the T.V all day, and Phil now realized why.

Phil's eyes remained on the screen of his laptop, the wheels of his brain turning and turning as he tried to concentrate on what to write next. He was suffering from a massive writer's block, and his focus was slowly starting to shift from his writing career. All of his attention had been on Dan for the past two weeks, and he didn't know how to finish his novel anymore. Chris had advised him to change the ending just a tiny bit, and Phil himself was not satisfied with the ending.

“Phil,” Dan poked his bicep with his forefinger. “Hey, Phil.”

“Hmm?” Phil murmured absently, eyes squinted and thoughtful.

Dan poked him again. “Phil, where is Hogwarts?”

“I should've killed Marzia . . .” Phil muttered under his breath as he looked at the screen, focus uninterrupted.

Dan pouted next to him, poking his bicep again. When he didn't get an answer, he peered at the screen and frowned. He huffed sulkily and looked around, poking Phil's cheek. “Phil.”

Phil was absently aware of Dan, but his brain was completely muddled with the complex plot of his novel and his characters. They all seemed to have a mind of their own, doing whatever they deemed right and disregarding the main plot altogether. Phil had been a writer for years, and he still had no idea how to control his characters from doing whatever the hell they pleased.

Suddenly, without warning, Dan leaned in. His soft, bright pink lips connected with Phil's cheek, and he placed a delicate, lingering peck that startled Phil out of his commitment. He blinked incessantly in astonishment, and his eyes widened like a balloon. His heart flipped and halted for a split second, and he turned his head to stare at Dan in shock.

Dan grinned brightly, his dimples showing and his eyes a bright, vivid brown of damp earth. Phil's heart skipped a beat. He stared at Dan in a daze and lifted his hand absently to touch his cheek, blinking in disbelief.

Dan grinned. “Where is Hogwarts?”

Phil blinked and let out a breath, swallowing nervously and looking away. He inhaled deeply and gave himself a few seconds to calm down. “What?” he managed to finally ask.

“Hogwarts, Phil!” Dan beamed excitedly, “Where is it? I just saw Harry Potter!”

“Oh,” Phil frowned, “I think it's in Scotland.”

“Can we go to Hogwarts? To Scotland?” Dan asked enthusiastically, eyes gleaming with delight. “Can we meet Luna? I like Luna.”

Phil furrowed his eyebrows and sighed tiredly. “Dan, we discussed this. Not everything you see on T.V is real. Hogwarts doesn't exist. It's just a movie.”

Dan's smile slipped away immediately, and his lips curled downwards, the shine in his eyes dimming considerably. “But–but Titanic was real!” he argued weakly, a confused frown forming on his pale face.

Phil huffed. “Yes, because it was a movie based on real events. Harry Potter is not. They're all just actors. It's called fiction.”

Dan frowned. “I . . . I don't understand humans.”

Phil shrugged. “To be honest, neither do I,” he said truthfully. “It's late. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

Dan's gaze lowered, and he went very quiet, pulling his knees to his chest and staring sadly at his knees. “Okay,” he whispered silently, hugging his legs to his chest.

Phil gazed at him sorrowfully and sighed, turning back to his laptop. Phil was alarmed by Dan's lack of knowledge about technology. He seemed to know certain aspects of human lifestyle, but he was thoroughly confused by specific things. Phil didn't know how it was possible. Dan was a complete mystery.

Dan stood up all of a sudden and stalked towards the door. Phil blinked. “Dan?”

Opening the door abruptly, Dan left the room without glancing back. Phil furrowed his eyebrows in concern, wondering what he had done to offend Dan. He closed his laptop and placed it on his bedside table, getting up to follow Dan.

Phil found him in his room, standing next to the window and staring outside at the night sky. His palm was pressed against the window, and his eyes were miserable, a tragic look on his face as he gazed at the stars. Phil stared at his beautiful face for a few silent moments and blinked, clearing his head. He sighed quietly and shuffled to Dan's side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “What's wrong?” he murmured softly, “It's not about Hogwarts, is it?”

Dan was quiet for a while, chewing on his bottom lip. “No, I just . . .” His eyes were sad and filled with a deep longing as he peered through the window at the outside world. “I want to go outside. I . . . I can't stay here . . .”

Phil's stomach sank just a little, and he wondered why. Of course, Dan would leave one day. Phil didn't have any right to stop him. “Oh.”

Dan nodded, staring forlornly at the sky, the reflection of the moon bright inside his brown eyes. “I want to fly,” he whispered quietly, placing both of his palms against the window. “I need to feel the wind, I . . .” His voice cracked, and he swallowed quietly.

Phil remained silent, not knowing what to say. He knew that winged men valued nature deeply. Their life was intertwined with nature. Being close to nature, especially the sky, was very important to them. He had heard stories of winged men falling into depression because of their inability to fly. Phil had grown used to the world of brick walls and cement, but Dan could never find comfort here. Dan belonged somewhere else. He was not a _human_.

Suddenly, Dan clenched his jaw and proceeded to open the window, injured wings already fluttering behind his back. Phil's eyes widened and he grabbed Dan's wrist, stopping him. “What are you doing?”

Dan turned to him with sad eyes. “I want to fly.”

“You can't, Dan,” Phil responded slowly. “Not yet. You're still weak. Your wings–”

“I'm fine,” he replied stubbornly. “I need to stretch my wings.”

Phil frowned with a huff, looking behind his shoulder quietly. His wings were still slightly bent, and Phil could clearly see the injured lump near the top. Without thinking, he reached forward and caressed Dan's wings with his fingers, inspecting them. They were softer than anything Phil had ever touched, and his fingers tingled with warmth. “Your wings are still healing,” he explained quietly. “You'll injure them again if you fly.”

“Please,” Dan responded hastily. “I can't–I need to–I'll be careful.” Dan looked at Phil pleadingly. “I'll make sure no one sees me.”

“Like I said, you'll just injure yourself even mo–”

“I can't . . . ” Dan breathed shakily. “I need to stretch my wings, I . . . I can't–it's painful not being able to fly. It hurts.” His eyes shined with determination, and Phil was suddenly captivated. “Please.”

Phil stared at him for what felt like hours and sighed deeply, letting go of his hand. He huffed in resignation. Dan was merely staying with him because he had nowhere else to go. Phil was no one, and he didn't have any right to tell Dan what he should or shouldn't do. “Do you really want to fly that badly?”

Dan nodded timidly. “I'll only fly for a little bit.”

Phil sighed deeply, forcing himself to say it. “Okay. You don't need my permission for anything,” he whispered quietly and opened the window with a deep sigh. “Go on. Just be careful not to injure yourself.”

Dan blinked, staring at Phil strangely for a few disorienting moments. Phil furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, standing there tensely as Dan leaned in and placed a timid kiss on his cheek. “Thanks,” Dan whispered with a shy smile.

Phil blinked in surprise, standing there in a daze. After a few seconds, he blinked and turned to the window. His heart gave a sudden leap as he watched Dan jump off the window and unfurl his magnificent black wings. It sprouted beautifully from both sides and glimmered like something otherworldly. He swooped through the air with an elegance Phil had never witnessed and swiftly rose towards the night sky, eyes sparkling and shimmering wings outstretched. His pale skin glinted in the moonlight as he spread his wings gracefully and soared up into the sky.

Phil's breath caught in his throat, eyes following Dan without wavering. It was a beautiful, breath-taking sight, and Dan looked free and wild. He watched in silence as Dan zoomed through the air and disappeared up into the clouds. He shook his head and finally forced himself to turn away. His heart was oddly excited, and a strange warmth that didn't exist before occupied his chest. He felt a little flustered, and he returned to his bedroom with a confused frown on his face.

~*~

  
Phil heard something crash in the other room and jumped up from the bed in shock, rushing out of the room. It had only been fifteen minutes, and Phil wondered what had happened to make Dan come back so soon. He didn't get to ponder on the thought. As soon as he entered the room and saw Dan on the floor in a weak condition, all of his thoughts drifted away.

“Dan!” Phil said worriedly, hurrying to his aid. “What happened?”

Dan panted heavily, his wings crumpled behind his back and his eyes squeezed shut. “Dizzy,” he murmured with a quiet groan.

“Dammit, Dan!” Phil huffed in frustration. “I told you! Your body is still weak. You shouldn't have insisted on flying.”

Dan heaved. “S-sorry.”

Phil sighed exasperatedly and stared at Dan for several quiet moments, unconsciously reaching out to brush his hair back. “Can you get up?” he asked softly.

Dan sniffed and shook his head. “Can't move,” he murmured in a silent whisper.

Phil huffed and slid his arms under Dan's back and legs, lifting him effortlessly. Even though Dan was recovering, he was still unhealthily skinny and weightless. “You're so skinny,” Phil noted in concern. “You need to gain some weight.”

Dan's fingers curled around his T-shirt, and he clung to Phil, snuggling against his chest. Phil blinked and looked down in surprise. His chest fluttered and a warm sensation spread through his stomach. Shaking his head quickly, Phil helped him to the bed. “Do you need something?” he asked worriedly. “Water? Tea? Something to eat?”

“No,” Dan whispered quietly, adjusting himself on the bed. “Thank you.”

Phil stared at his small figure on the bed. He looked thin and weak, even his bones were sticking out. Phil had agreed to let him stay until his wings healed, but as days passed, they were becoming friends, and Phil was beginning to wonder if he should make Dan stay until he was stronger and a little healthier.

“Are you alright?” Phil asked worriedly, sitting next to him. He glanced at Dan's wings quietly. His hands automatically reached out and smoothed Dan's feathers with light fingertips. They were soft, so soft, like velvet or silk, and Phil brushed them in wonder.

Dan stilled almost instantly and tensed, making a small strange noise in his throat as he opened his bright brown eyes. “Um,” he whispered shakily as Phil continued to brush his wings, curling into a ball and blushing furiously. “Don't–don't do that.”

“Hmm?” Phil frowned, moving his hands down to massage Dan's tense shoulder blades. “You strained them, didn't you?”

Dan nodded quietly, his face flushed. He bit his lip and scooted closer to Phil, looking reluctant and timid. “What is it?” Phil asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Can you–” Dan hesitated. “Can you stay with me for a while?”

Phil nodded. “Of course.” He shrugged and lay down beside Dan, turning to his side and facing him.

Dan's lips stretched into a grateful smile, and he closed his eyes. “Thank you.”

Phil sighed softly and adjusted his position, lying more comfortably. Dan was quiet for some time, his eyes closed as he lay next to Phil. Phil's eyes wandered all over his face, noticing his long eyelashes, soft cheeks, cute nose and . . . and soft-looking lips. . .

“Can I ask you something?” Dan murmured suddenly in a timid voice.

Phil turned away and let out a breath. “Yeah.” He nodded quickly. “What?”

Dan opened his eyes, looking at Phil and chewing on his bottom lip nervously. He extended his hand, and his fingers curled around Phil's T-shirt timidly. “Do you even like me?” he asked in a vulnerable voice, “Or am I just a burden?”

Phil stared at Dan for a few moments and huffed, rolling his eyes. “You're a huge burden. You're lazy and messy. You're a little stupid, and all you do is bother me.”

“Oh.” Dan began to pull his hand away, looking utterly devastated.

Phil sighed with a small smile and grasped his delicate hand, quietly rolling up his long sleeves that covered his fingers. “I'm just joking, Dan,” he murmured quietly, his face just a few inches away from Dan's. The silence in the room was peaceful, and when he looked at Dan, he felt calm and composed. His mind was relaxed, and he felt comfortable with Dan. “You're not a burden at all. Why would you think that? You're actually pretty interesting and fun to be around.”

Dan blinked and immediately blushed. “Interesting?”

Phil smiled, and Dan stared at him in admiration. No one spoke for a small moment, but Phil soon turned away with a blink, unable to handle the awed glow in Dan's eyes. “Yeah. You're not a burden. I like having you here. I told you before. We're friends, okay?”

“Really?”

Phil nodded and gave him a grin. “Yeah.”

Dan smiled back eventually, sighing in visible relief. He scooted closer and snuggled up against Phil's chest, tucking his face under Phil's chin. “We're friends,” he murmured happily. “Okay. I get it now.”

Phil bit his bottom lip and swallowed, something like dread coiling around his throat. He stilled completely and wondered if he should tell Dan that friends didn't cuddle with each other, but Dan looked far too content and pleased with Phil's words. He couldn't bring himself to say anything. “Yeah.”

Somewhere deep inside, he knew it was wrong. Phil wasn't supposed to get attached to him. The consequences of that would never be worth it, but he felt powerless to do anything about it.

Phil closed his eyes and assured himself that it was temporary. Dan wasn't going to stay forever. He would be gone in a few weeks, never to return again. He would leave once he regained his strength, and Phil would go back to his boring, monotonous life. They were both a part of two entirely different worlds, and there was no way they could ever form a genuine friendship. Wishing for it was foolish, and hoping was even more so.

~*~

  
“I want more sugar!” Dan huffed stubbornly. Phil gave him a look, and he immediately added, “Please.”

“No, Dan,” Phil disagreed strictly. “I'm trying to help you. Sugar is bad for you.”

Dan pouted and thumped his head repeatedly against the table. “Please?”

“No,” Phil huffed exasperatedly, cracking an egg into the frying pan. “Don't bother searching the cupboards. I hid the jar. You won't find it.”

Phil turned around just in time to see Dan freeze with his hand near the cupboard. He smirked gleefully at Dan's horrified face. “What do you think you're doing?”

Dan furrowed his eyebrows and pouted, dropping back into his chair with a defeated moan. “Why are you torturing me?” he groaned, resting his cheek on the table. “More sugar.”

“It's not good for you right now, Dan,” Phil explained softly, turning around and transferring the fried eggs to a plate.

Dan sulked. “Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

Phil groaned. “I said no.” He turned to Dan exasperatedly. “If you want to fly again, you need more strength. You need to start eating healthy stuff.” He pointed to the kitchen counter. “Eat that banana over there.”

Dan pouted. “I don't like bananas.”

“Did you know bananas have a lot of sugar in it?”

Dan blinked in surprise. “Really? Can I put it in my tea?”

“No, but you can eat it,” Phil said with a smirk.

Dan gave him a blank look and opened his mouth to protest, stopping and frowning when a creaking noise and thudding footsteps invaded the silence.

Instantly alarmed, Phil placed a finger on his lips and gestured for Dan to be quiet, eyes wide and heart beating ferociously. His mind dashed back to the door, and he racked his brains to remember if he had locked it or not. He had gone out early in the morning to get some fresh vegetables, and he couldn't remember locking the door. His friends had always walked in without any warning, and he had been keeping it locked since Dan started living with him. But in that moment, he couldn't remember. Did he lock the door? Did he forget? Did he make an irreversible mistake? Was it the end?

“Hey, Phil, can I borrow some eggs? I forgot to–” Anthony halted in his tracks instantly, stilling like a statue, and Phil's heart plummeted rapidly.

There was a moment of complete silence where the confusion and disbelief on Anthony's face was clearly visible. He stood still near the door, and there was nothing but a tense silence all around him. Time itself seemed to have paused. Anthony's puzzled eyes fell on Dan's wings and darted back instantly to a wide-eyed Phil, gazing back and forth in utter shock. His jaw dropped in a daze, and the disorientation was clear on his face. It only lasted for a single second, and his expression changed from confusion to full-on outrage. His hands shot out to his waist to grab a gun that wasn't there.

Anthony wasn't on duty, and he was in his pyjamas, standing in Phil's kitchen, barefoot and half awake on a Thursday morning. The distant part of his brain remembered Anthony's work schedule, recollecting that he usually had Thursdays and Fridays off.

Phil couldn't believe his luck. His heart pounded like never before, and he rushed forward to stand in front of Dan protectively, shoving Dan behind himself as he yelled, “I can explain!”


	16. A careless winged man

The tension in the room was thick and palpable, agitating Phil's nerves like never before. His heart pounded in panic, and the atmosphere itself was charged with silent suspense. Anthony gaped at Phil in scepticism, staring unabashedly with wide, disbelieving eyes. His expression was conflicted, and the clash between his feelings of suspicion and his faith in Phil was clearly evident on his face. Dan stood up from his seat gracefully and grasped Phil's arm tightly. Breathing heavily, Phil placed a gentle hand above Dan's, providing him reassurance through simple actions. “Anthony, I can explain,” he repeated cautiously, arms stretched in front of Dan, protecting him.

“What–” Anthony glowered angrily, his eyes full of harsh disapproval and fury as he glared at Phil. “–the fuck is going on here?”

Phil swallowed fearfully, and Dan frowned next to him, lifting his chin proudly and looking down his nose at Anthony. There was a grim look in Dan's usually soft eyes, and his shoulders were stiff in response to the threat. His wings rose smoothly from their lowered state, and Anthony's eyes widened comically. His frantic eyes darted across the small kitchen, landing on a spatula. Phil blinked as Anthony snatched it off the kitchen counter and held it like a weapon in front of him. “Step aside, Phil,” he threatened in a low, growly voice. His hands were shaking, and his fingers tightened around the handle as he glared at Dan with hatred in his eyes. “He's getting angry. He's going to hurt you.”

“No, he's not.” Phil frowned and turned to analyse Dan's frightened expression. His face was solemn but there was fear in his eyes. He looked pensive and ready to defend himself, violently if necessary. Phil turned back to Anthony with wide eyes and a scared gulp. “Anthony, please. You're scaring him. Let me explain,” he pleaded desperately. “Calm down.”

Anthony glared at Dan, scowling in disgust. “Phil, get out of here. Let me handle him. Is he blackmailing you? Holding you hostage? Don't worry. You're safe now.” He gave Dan a dirty sneer. “Trust me. I'm a professional.”

Dan abruptly let go of Phil's arm and stepped in front of him. He clenched his jaw and stared directly at Anthony, his gaze dull but unwavering. He bent down a little and outstretched his wings fully, large and threatening, knocking the teacups off the table. It tumbled to the floor with a thud and shattered into pieces, splashing cold tea everywhere.

Phil turned to him in shock and noticed the sharp state of his wings. They looked razor-sharp, ready to pierce into raw flesh. The timidness and shy personality of Dan disappeared like it never even existed, and suddenly, he looked powerful and dangerous, like someone to be feared. He appeared slightly hesitant but prepared to fight if needed, and Phil gulped in fear, immediately placing a hand on Dan's shoulder, Dan who no longer looked naive and innocent. “Stop. Dan, listen to me. Go to your room,” he murmured in a hurry, “He's my friend. He won't hurt you.”

Dan shook his head stubbornly, visibly trembling with rage as he stared at Anthony unblinkingly. He stood in front of Phil protectively and glared at Anthony, narrowing his eyes. “Stay away from us,” he glowered.

Phil glanced back nervously and saw Anthony's eyes widen. He blinked in absolute shock and stared at Phil's hand that was resting on Dan's shoulder, his mouth agape in disbelief. “You . . . you are . . .” he trailed off with a frown.

“Dan, please.” Phil bit his bottom lip anxiously, quickly examining the crisis and thinking about how to diffuse the slowly escalating situation. In a desperate attempt to calm a formidable-looking Dan, he reached forward nervously and placed a hand on his beautiful wings, brushing the soft, glimmering feathers. They were pointy and sharp everywhere, but the places Phil's hand touched were as soft as silk. “It's okay. He's my friend. He won't hurt you,” Phil repeated dreadfully. “Lower your wings. He's not a threat. I promise you.”

Phil breathed heavily, giving Dan a pleading look and glancing at Anthony's wide-eyed, shocked face. He was staring at them in disbelief and confusion, frowning and looking back and forth between them.

“Dan,” Phil murmured quietly, and he noticed Anthony lowering his spatula cautiously, looking dumbstruck and puzzled. “Go to your room. Let me talk to him.”

Dan bit his lip, and Phil brushed his feathers. “Trust me. Go to your room,” he mumbled in a reassuring way. “He's my friend. Look, he's not even trying to hurt you.”

Dan narrowed his eyes at Anthony who was still and silent, an unreadable expression on his face. Dan pursed his lips but finally gave him a tiny nod and lowered his wings with a relieved huff. He turned one last time to give Anthony a nasty glare and stalked away to his bedroom without another word. Phil let out a breath and sighed deeply, dropping back into a chair in relief. He could feel Anthony's disgruntled stare, and he chewed on his bottom lip nervously. “Anthony, please–”

“What's going on?” Anthony snapped in agitation, placing the spatula on the table and glaring at Phil accusingly. “You have a winged man in your home! It's against the fucking law, and you're committing an unforgivable crim–”

Phil bit his lip guiltily, dropping his face into his hands in frustration. “I know! I just–it just happened. Don't tell anyone, please–”

“What the fuck is the matter with you, Phil?” Anthony hissed scandalously, pacing back and forth and carding his fingers through his hair. “Who is he? Why would you _touch_ him?” Anthony rubbed his forehead, looking hysterical. “Oh fuck, you actually fucking _touched_ him!”

Phil blinked and stilled, looking up. “What?”

Anthony gestured with his hands wildly, looking amazed and shocked and appalled all at the same time. “His wings, Phil!” he shouted aggressively, “You touched his wings! _He_ let _you_ touch his _wings_. Fuck!”

“Yes?” Phil furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He wasn't following the conversation anymore. “So?”

Anthony threw his hands up in distress. “That is a sigh of _utmost_ trust, Phil,” he enunciated carefully as if in awe, “Why the fuck was he letting you touch him? That is absolutely not normal. Winged people are not—they're not affectionate towards each other. They're not like us. They don't _touch_ each other, especially touching the wings is forbidden in their culture!” Anthony slammed both of his hands on the table and breathed deeply. “You could actually get killed for that.” There was a tint of intrigue in his gaze. “Normally, even winged people don't touch each other's wings. They're sharp and can cut your fingers. How did you . . .” he trailed off in horrified awe. “How did you manage to do that?”

Phil gaped at Anthony, and suddenly Dan's weird reactions and embarrassment made complete sense. “Why?” he managed to choke out in shock. “Why don't they touch each other?”

“Wings, Phil! Their wings!” Anthony huffed loudly. “Their wings are very important to them. They don't just let random people come close to them. Actually, they don't even hug their own family. They're hostile creatures. They don't trust people easily,” he explained with a wild look in his eyes, “But he trusts you. Why does he trust you? He was protecting you . . . they don't protect people unless . . .” He gazed at Phil in horror and suspicion. “What did you do?” There was a strange expression on his face. “What the fuck did you do?”

Phil swallowed, looking at his hands emptily. Anthony dropped into a chair next to him, staring at him with wide, doubtful eyes, awaiting an answer. “I saved him,” Phil murmured finally, “He was injured, and I helped him. I gave him a place to stay.”

There was a disbelieving silence for a while. Phil could feel Anthony's furious stare burning into the side of his head. “That's illegal!” Anthony hissed in a voice barely above a whisper. “You're supposed to report him, you fucking idiot!”

“I won't report him!” Phil frowned angrily. “Why should I report him? According to the law, winged men are free to come out at night.”

“Nobody cares about the law!” Anthony told him. “There are very few winged men left. They're a threat to us, and we're arresting them!”

Phil clenched his jaw. “That's not fair.”

“Do you think the government cares about that?” Anthony huffed, “Report him. He's in your home!”

“I won't report him!” Phil yelled in rage. “He's here because he has my permission!”

“He's a threat!”

“He's my friend!” Phil shouted abruptly, standing up and clenching his hands into fists. Anthony stared at him, blinking profusely, looking shocked. Phil breathed heavily and tried to calm down, swallowing his emotions. “Look,” he whispered pleadingly, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Please, Anthony. I'm begging you–”

“Phil, you can't do this. You need to–”

“No,” Phil said sharply. “I won't report him. I won't.”

“You can't just let him live here forever!” Anthony spluttered. “What if he attacks you?”

Phil blinked, and he felt furious. An unbearable need to defend Dan overpowered him. “He would never attack me,” he said with a frown. “ _Never.”_

Anthony paused, staring at him in surprise. Phil went on, “He's only here for a few days, alright? He injured his wings and he'll leave once it heals. He doesn't have anywhere else to go. He's so skinny, and I just want to help him. He's sweet and kind, Anthony. He's not dangerous or–or a threat. I promise you.” Phil sighed softly. “You saw him. He listens to me. He won't hurt anyone. Ever.”

Anthony was completely silent, staring at Phil with surprise. Phil turned to him fully, sitting rigidly in his seat. “I've always helped you whenever you needed help, Anthony. I need you to help me this one time,” he implored desperately. “I need you to pretend you never saw him. If you arrest him, you'll have to arrest me too.”

Phil gulped anxiously and chewed on his bottom lip quietly. Anthony stared at nothing in particular, keeping quiet for a painfully long time. Phil was on the edge of his seat, scared shitless and praying to god helplessly. He knew Anthony was loyal, and he had always supported Phil no matter how absurd the situation was. He trusted Anthony, but the fear of being discovered was still there, in his heart. He waited and waited . . . and it felt like his heart was about to burst into a pulpy mess.

Finally, the answer came. Anthony turned to him with a reassuring but pensive look. “I'm not just going to tell everyone and betray you, you know,” he conveyed with a sigh, his expression solemn. “You should know that.”

Phil blinked. “What?”

Anthony stood up from his seat and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. “I don't care about him. I want you to report him, but all I can do is try to persuade you. I don't give a shit about him, but I care about you,” he expressed comfortingly. “I'm shocked, I admit, but I'm not going to arrest you for fuck's sake. You're my friend.” Anthony looked at him with a grim expression on his face. “I just don't want him to harm you, that's all. It's not like you're going to listen to me anyway, right? I don't particularly care for winged people. I'm not really a Hunter because I hate winged men.” His lips twitched into a smirk. “I'm only in it for the money.”

Phil swallowed and relief flooded his chest. Anthony glanced up. “All I care about is your safety,” he admitted, “Winged men can be very dangerous and wild . . . but, well, it looks like he trusts you.”

Phil sighed deeply and sat back comfortably in his chair, huffing softly. “You should've said that first,” he muttered with a sigh. “Dick. You scared the shit out of me.”

“I was pretty alarmed. I still am.” Anthony shrugged nonchalantly and gave him a small smile, but the smile soon slipped off his face and a tense expression took over. He looked at Phil steadily and said in a sombre tone, “But that doesn't mean you can just open a homeless shelter for random winged men.” He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “I need to make sure you're safe. Are you sure he won't harm you?”

Phil nodded firmly. “I'm sure.”

Anthony huffed and leaned in to whisper sternly, “Look, I get where you're coming from. You've always had a kind heart, but Phil, this is risky. It's illegal.” He paused for a second and said, “I'll lose my job, and you'll end up in jail. Do you understand?”

“I know,” Phil murmured quietly, “He's only here for a few more days, Anthony. He was almost dying when I met him. I had to help him. He's recovering, and he'll leave once he's better. No one has to know about this.”

“How long has he been here for?” Anthony asked in shock.

Phil chewed on his bottom lip. “A week, but I've known him for about four months.”

Anthony took a sharp intake of breath. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Phil sighed. “He's not a bad person, Anthony. We're good friends. He'll never hurt me.”

Anthony narrowed his eyes doubtfully. “I don't believe that. Winged people are wild and short-tempered. I don't think you understand how dangerous he is.”

Phil couldn't help but roll his eyes. “I don't think you know anything about Winged people.”

“Well, why don't you show me? Let me talk to him. I need to see it myself,” Anthony declared with a small huff. “If I sense any danger, he's out. I won't risk my job and my friend for some random, smooth-talking criminal. I'm only doing this because I know how stubborn you are.”

“Is that really necessary?” Phil frowned hesitantly, “He's probably already scared.”

“Scared?” Anthony laughed a little derisively, “He's probably plotting my demise. That's how cruel they are.”

Phil scoffed. “You know nothing about him.”

Anthony shrugged and arched an eyebrow in challenge. “Prove it.”

Phil sighed heavily but nodded wordlessly. Anthony was risking his fancy, high-paying job and his entire life by willing to give Dan a chance. This was the least Phil could do to repay him for what he was doing. “Okay,” he agreed with a heavy intake of breath.

Phil guided Anthony towards Dan's room, wondering distantly if Dan would be okay with it. He mentally prepared himself for another hostile staredown and opened the door quietly. “Dan?”

Dan was sitting on the bed silently, and he looked up with an open, carefree smile. He was back to his normal, adorable self, but it didn't last long. He frowned and immediately altered his expression to something more neutral when he noticed Anthony behind Phil. He leapt out of bed and stepped back, putting as much distance as he could between them. His wings sprouted out instantly with a sharp, fluttering noise, and Phil was slowly recognising the action as a default reaction to threat. Winged people's wings were their ultimate weapon, and they used it whenever they felt danger was close.

“It's okay,” Phil assured him in a soft, soothing voice, stepping towards a wary-looking Dan. He was glowering at Anthony, ready for an aggressive confrontation. Phil stood beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “He's my friend. He's here to help. He won't hurt you.”

Dan glared straight at Anthony who was watching them closely, and Phil sighed. “Dan, trust me,” he said quietly.

Dan continued to stare at Anthony, and Phil huffed. “Dan, he won't tell anyone. He just agreed to help us.” He squeezed Dan's shoulder and murmured, “ _Trust_ me.”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip nervously for many quiet moments but lowered his wings obediently, his expression returning to soft as he looked at Phil. He grabbed Phil's arm and glued himself to Phil's side, half hiding behind him as he peered suspiciously at Anthony. “I don't like him,” Dan mumbled dubiously, glaring angrily at Anthony. “He doesn't smell dangerous, but I still don't like him.”

Phil smiled at his adorable antics. “See?” Phil turned to Anthony. “He won't hurt me. You don't have to worry.”

Anthony looked curiously between them, eyes holding concern but also a certain kind of fascination. “You're the most careless winged man I've ever seen,” he told Dan with a confused frown.

Dan's fingers tightened around Phil's arm. “I don't like him,” he repeated stubbornly in a small voice, pressing himself against Phil and hiding behind him. “I'm scared.”

“You don't have to be,” Phil comforted and turned back to Anthony. “What do you mean?”

“It's weird that he's letting you touch him,” Anthony admitted in a confused tone, staring at the way Dan was standing close to Phil. “Their wings are precious to them. They can live without food, water, even blood, but they can't live without their wings.” Anthony looked conflicted between what to believe. “I've never seen a winged man letting someone touch them, especially humans. It's weird.”

“What's so weird about it?” Phil asked, feeling puzzled. “I'm sure it's just a misconception. Dan will probably let you touch him. I know him, and he–”

Anthony's expression was filled with curiosity, and he stepped forward with his hand extended. “Really? Can I touch your wings? Will you let me–”

Dan backed away instantly, cowering behind Phil, holding his waist tightly and hiding his face in Phil's back. He trembled and made a frustrated noise. “No. No, I won't!” he said quickly and fearfully, sounding panicked. “Don't come near me!”

Anthony frowned and moved towards him. Dan let out a startled scream and tightened his hold around Phil. “Stay away from me!” he cried out, and his wings automatically spread out, sensing the threat. “I don't like you!”

Phil stared at Dan in surprise but supported him. “Don't. It's making him uncomfortable.”

Anthony didn't stop. “Let me just try–”

Dan was shaking, and he screamed, “Phil!”

“Stop it!” Phil blurted quickly and glared at Anthony, reaching behind him with his hands to pat Dan's back. “You're scaring him.”

Anthony huffed with startled eyes and stepped back. “I was just testing him.” He moved back towards the door, putting distance between them. Dan breathed heavily and immediately calmed down. Anthony frowned. “This is not normal, but it looks like you're right. He really trusts you, Phil.”

Phil furrowed his eyebrows, looking back at Dan who was holding him tightly, looking timid and vulnerable. His heart warmed, and he smiled. He hadn't realized how much Dan believed in him until that moment. His resolution to protect Dan increased tenfold, and he vowed to himself that he would never break the trust Dan had placed in him.

Anthony gasped and took out his vibrating phone, staring down at it. “Fuck. PJ's calling me. I just came for eggs. If I don't leave, he'll come here,” he revealed hastily, turning around in panic. “Phil, this conversation is not over. I'll come back later, but for now, I won't say anything.”

Phil pursed his lips and nodded. “Thanks, Anthony.”

~*~

  
After Anthony's departure, Dan was quiet for the rest of the day. During dinner, he tossed his food around on his plate for half an hour and went to sleep early. Phil wondered if Dan was angry at him, or if he had done something to upset him, but his doubts vanished when he noticed Dan's sleeping form on his bed. He stood near the door and contemplated waking Dan and telling him to go back to his own room, but when he noticed Dan's brown curls splayed across his pillow, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Dan looked adorable in his sleep. He was sleeping peacefully, one leg poking out of the duvet.

Phil stayed up late into the night, watching an old documentary on the lifestyle of winged people. He was sitting next to Dan on the bed with his laptop. It was late, but he was too immersed in the documentary, his focus uninterrupted until Dan woke up with a start. He let out a small groan and rolled around on the bed, tossing the pillows to the floor uncomfortably. He kicked the duvet to the floor as well and rolled away, almost falling off the bed. He made a drowsy, distressed noise and rolled back to Phil's side with a pout.

Phil frowned and turned to him worriedly. “What's wrong?” he asked, “Bad dream?”

Dan stilled and looked up with a sleepy face, rubbing his eyelids and slowly sitting up with a yawn. “Yeah,” he murmured and nodded sluggishly.

“Do you want tea?” he asked, putting his laptop away and turning to Dan.

Dan shook his head but asked shyly, “Can I get a hug instead?”

Phil blinked and a warm sensation spread through his stomach. He smiled and opened his arms. “Of course,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around Dan.

Dan hugged him back, burying his face in the crook of his neck, holding him tightly. He looked shaken and small. “Are you okay?” Phil asked quietly.

“I don't know,” he mumbled into Phil's shoulder, keeping quiet.

The room was dark and cold, moonlight dripping through the curtains and making shadows on the floor. Quiet moments passed, and they remained in the same position, both of them unwilling to move. Phil's heart thudded, and he closed his eyes, feeling Dan's warmth against his body.

“Phil?” Dan mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Do you like him?” Dan asked silently, placing his chin on Phil's shoulder.

Phil furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Who?”

Dan was silent for a while, sounding timid. “That guy . . . Anthony,” he murmured finally in a frightened voice. “Do you like him?”

“Yeah, of course. He's my friend.”

“No . . . not like that,” Dan muttered, sounding frustrated. His arms tightened around Phil, puzzling him even more. “Do you like him like Jack liked Rose?”

Phil let out a wry chuckle. “No, Dan. He's just a friend.”

Dan's wings fluttered behind him as he said, “Okay.”

Phil pulled back quietly, gazing at Dan's pink cheeks and shy smile. “Go back to sleep,” he advised, and Dan nodded.

Phil sighed softly and smiled at him. Dan tilted his head and gave him a happy grin, making Phil's chest flutter. As he continued to look at Dan, he felt a strange fondness flood his chest. It was strange because it was not like the fondness he had for his friends or his family. It was a different feeling, a whole new type of affection he had never felt for another person. It was a protective feeling, almost a strong desire to keep Dan safe. The sudden flow of emotions was so overwhelming that for a second, he couldn't quite control his actions. He remembered Louise's kids and before he knew it, he was leaning forward automatically and placing a soft little kiss on Dan's forehead. “Goodnight, Dan,” he murmured quietly.

Dan's eyes widened in shock, and his cheeks turned a glowing red. He stared at Phil with huge, sparkling brown eyes, and his wings lifted instantly, fluttering so ferociously that Phil had to move back. “What's wrong?” Phil asked in concern, looking at Dan's flushed face with raised eyebrows.

Dan bit his lip. “I–I just–” he stammered and blushed, avoiding Phil's eyes and getting up quickly. “I'm going back to my room!” he squeaked, tripping twice as he waddled awkwardly to the door and left in a hurry.

Phil blinked at the open door, staring at it in utter confusion and befuddlement. His eyebrows furrowed in worry, and he wondered if he had somehow offended Dan. He was merely trying to make Dan feel better, and it was just how he treated Louise's kids. He hadn't meant to do it, but it happened before he could think about it. Phil sighed at his thoughts, ignoring his affectionate emotions. He got up from the bed and padded over to his kitchen, deciding to make some tea to calm his nerves. Usually, Dan's funny reactions thoroughly amused Phil, but other times, it deeply concerned him. He still didn't quite understand Dan.


	17. Things are changing

It was late in the afternoon, and Phil's bedroom was bright and airy. It was a sunny day, and the sky was a vivid blue. He was sitting in his chair and typing on his computer, enjoying the wonderful day. Dan was sitting right behind him, lounged on Phil's bed with a chocolate bar in his hand. He was watching something on Phil's laptop while Phil edited his new YouTube video. He was going to promote his new book on his channel, and he was excitedly looking forward to it.

The quiet rustle of the curtains made him turn towards the window, and he sighed softly in satisfaction. He was in high spirits. There was a strange sense of comfort and peace all around him, and he was unknowingly smiling for some weird reason. He pushed his chair back slightly and yawned, raising his hands and stretching comfortably. He cracked his knuckles and sighed in contentment, turning to Dan with a fond look.

As expected, Dan was sitting cross-legged on his bed, his eyes fixated on the screen. He was still munching on the chocolate bar, and Phil smiled at him. Dan seemed to sense Phil's affectionate stare because he looked up, tilting his head in confusion. He raised his hand and offered his chocolate bar. “Do you want a bite?”

Phil shook his head and snorted. “No,” he replied in amusement, pointing at his laptop. “What are you watching?”

Dan's brown eyes gleamed suddenly, and he grinned brightly. “Penguins!” he answered cheerfully, turning the screen towards Phil and pointing with his finger. “Look. They're so cute!”

“Oh,” Phil squinted his eyes and let out a surprised laugh. Dan had been glued to his laptop ever since Phil taught him how to use it. “You're watching BBC Earth on YouTube?”

Dan shrugged. “I love penguins.”

“Well, keep watching then,” Phil told him with a smile. He sighed and turned his attention back to his computer, continuing his work. His mind focused back on the task, and he hunched his back and worked silently for many quiet moments, fingers moving fluidly on the keyboard. He didn't pay attention to Dan until there was a quiet sniffing sound from behind him.

Phil's fingers stilled, and he frowned in puzzlement. With a small sigh, he whirled around in his chair and blinked in surprise. “What's wrong?”

Dan sniffed, covering his mouth with his hands. “Baby penguin,” he whispered in shock. “The baby penguin died.”

Phil sighed and rolled his eyes, staring at Dan with a small smile. “You're such an idiot,” he muttered to himself.

“Oh no,” Dan gasped and flinched when he saw something on the screen. “That's so sad.”

“What happened?” Phil asked, raising his eyebrows. “How did the penguin die?”

“There was a storm,” Dan frowned, “He was too small, and he died.”

“Well . . . I'm sorry, Dan.” Phil shook his head at Dan and sighed quietly, turning back to his computer. He adjusted his glasses and saved the video. He pushed the chair back and stood up from his seat with a quiet groan, clicking shut down. “I'm going to make some tea.” He turned towards the door without waiting for an answer, yawning tiredly.

“Okay,” Dan responded quickly, scrabbling to his feet, ready to follow him.

Phil huffed. “You don't have to follow me, Dan.”

Dan nodded. “Okay.”

Phil sighed quietly, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. He ambled silently to the living room. There was a tiptoeing sound from behind him, and he came to a halt, rolling his eyes when Dan crashed against his back. “Dan,” he huffed heavily and turned around. “Why are you following me?”

Dan sulked. “I'm lonely.”

Phil sighed deeply. “You're always lonely.”

“Then why don't you do something about it?” Dan puffed his lips and stared his feet quietly.

Phil frowned in confusion. “What do you want me to do about it?”

Dan shrugged lightly and stared at his feet in silence. Phil looked at him for a while, but his gaze drifted towards the shelf behind Dan, landing on his old chessboard. Phil blinked and turned back to Dan. “Hey, do you want to play chess?”

~*~

“Do you understand?” Phil asked gleefully after explaining the game to Dan. It had been a long time since he had played chess, and he was a little too enthusiastic to play the game again after years. He usually played with Anthony every once in a while, but nowadays, due to his job, Anthony rarely had time for Phil.

Dan frowned but nodded, taking a sip of tea from his cup. “I don't know.”

“That's alright,” Phil assured confidently. “You'll get it if you play a few times.”

Dan nodded soundlessly, sitting cross-legged on the sofa. He was frowning at the chessboard, squinting his eyes and thinking carefully. Phil smiled at him, and he was about to arrange the pieces when there was a knock at the door. Dan blinked, and Phil bolted to his feet instantly, grabbing Dan's arm. His heart thudded, and he squeezed Dan's arm. “Go to my room. Stay there, okay? Let me see who it is,” he explained swiftly in an anxious voice.

Dan nodded solemnly and placed his cup down on the coffee table, whirling around and leaving without arguments. Phil watched nervously as he disappeared down the hallway, and trudged to the front door, taking a deep breath before opening it. He pulled it back just a little and peered through the small space, eyes searching for the uninvited guest. 

“You look suspicious.”

Phil blinked at the familiar voice, and his heart gave a leap at the sudden noise before settling calmly back in his chest. “Anthony,” he breathed deeply in relief. “It's just you.”

Phil opened the door fully and invited him in, locking the door with an audible click when he was safely inside. “You scared us.”

Anthony shrugged with a grin, looking around with curious eyes. “Is he still here?” he asked in a small whisper, marching into the living room, closely followed by Phil. 

Phil sighed. “Yeah,” he accepted carefully. “Dan!” he called loudly, “It's fine. You can come outside. It's just Anthony.”

“What were you doing?” Anthony inquired with a frown, staring at the coffee table littered with chess pieces.

“We were about to play chess.” Phil shrugged, turning back to see Dan peering at Anthony from a distance. Phil waved him over cheerfully. “It's okay. Come here.”

Anthony looked up, lifting his neck to look over Phil's shoulder at Dan. He raised his eyebrows in amusement, and Dan glared at Anthony doubtfully, his wings outstretched in defence. He glanced at Phil and cautiously tiptoed towards him, hiding behind Phil and peeking over his shoulder at Anthony. Anthony's eyes were filled with entertainment, and he lifted his hand cautiously and gave Dan a small wave. “Hello, there.”

Dan frowned at him, clinging to Phil, his fingers curled around Phil's T-shirt. He was quiet, and his eyes were filled with reluctance and suspicion. He didn't respond to Anthony's greeting, and Anthony sighed knowingly. 

Phil watched the interaction with mild amusement, shaking his head with a smile. “Anyway . . . ” Phil attempted to diffuse the tension. “Do you want tea?”

Anthony rolled his eyes haughtily and shook his head, giving Phil a look of disgust. “Ew, no,” he retorted with a scowl. “You drink way too much tea.” He plopped back on the sofa and let out a deep sigh. “You and Louise both.” He stared at the chessboard thoughtfully. “I don't know how you drink it. It's disgusting.”

Phil gave him a look, reaching back to pat Dan's back. He was still glaring at Anthony with narrowed eyes. “What's wrong with tea? I like tea.”

“It's outdated, mate,” Anthony shrugged his shoulders loosely and sat back comfortably. “Drink some iced coffee or something for god's sake.”

“No, thanks,” Phil replied tartly, “Why don't you stop shitting out of your mouth? It's outdated, mate. Use your ass.”

Anthony rolled his eyes with a huff and grabbed a pawn, throwing it at Phil playfully. Phil grinned smugly, and he was ready to duck, but before he could, in a split second, Dan was in front of him, catching the pawn swiftly with a precision that was impressive. “Don't do that!” he yelled in anger, and in a fit of rage, he scooped up all of the chess pieces and dumped them on Anthony's head. He shot him a death glare and bolted back to hide behind Phil. He placed his hands on Phil's shoulder and peered at Anthony angrily, glaring at him.

Anthony blinked, and he stared at Dan in utter bafflement. There was a stunned silence for a few minutes, and it took Phil a few seconds to process what had happened. His lips cracked into a grin as he looked at Anthony's dumbstruck face and slowly a laugh slipped out of his mouth. Anthony looked at him and rolled his eyes, gaze dropping down to the chess pieces scattered on his lap. “What was that for?” he muttered in confusion.

Dan gave him a warning look, and Anthony sighed. “You were going to play chess?”

Phil nodded. “Yeah.”

Anthony narrowed his eyes and stared at the chessboard contemplatively. Phil frowned at him, and Anthony looked up with a smug expression on his face. “Do you want to play with me?” he asked Dan.

Dan glared at him. “No.”

“Why not?” Anthony raised an eyebrow. “Come on, buddy. One game.”

“Go away. Die.”

Phil suppressed a laugh. “Oh, are you scared you'll lose?” Anthony inquired with a smirk. “Don't worry. I'll go easy on you.”

Dan stilled and stiffened, narrowing his eyes at Anthony. “I'm not scared.”

“Then let's play,” Anthony declared happily, clapping his hands enthusiastically. 

“I don't trust you,” Dan revealed honestly with a suspicious frown, standing close to Phil's back and placing his chin on Phil's shoulder. “I don't want to come near you. I hate you.”

Anthony glanced at Dan's position introspectively and shrugged. “The feeling is mutual, mate,” he admitted, proceeding to arrange the pieces on the board.

Dan furrowed his eyebrows and glanced at Phil questioningly, moving away. Phil shrugged. “Do you want to play?”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully and sighed, giving Phil a tiny nod. Phil smiled, and he felt slightly excited. He adjusted his glasses and sat down on a nearby chair, watching Anthony arrange the pieces quietly.

~*~

“I'll win this time!” Dan snapped for the fifteenth time, clenching his jaw and glowering at Anthony in fury. He was visibly trembling with frustration, fuming quietly in his seat as Anthony won over and over again. Phil was sitting next to him, observing the game with bored blue eyes. It was dark already, and Phil was mentally exhausted from supervising the childish scuffle.

Anthony smirked. “Admit it. You lost.”

“No,” Dan grumbled, frowning at the chessboard. “I'll win this time.”

“Actually . . .” Phil sighed, leaning forward and scratching his neck. “Anthony, you should go home. It's late. I'm tired of this.”

“No!” Dan blurted, looking horrified. “I want to win!”

Phil rolled his eyes and gave him a blank look. “You can't win against Anthony,” he disclosed truthfully, “No one can win against Anthony.”

“Why not?” Dan frowned, staring at Phil questioningly. 

“He's an excellent player,” Phil conceded, “Besides, you just learnt the game. You can't win against him.”

Dan pouted, looking hurt. “I'll win this time.”

Phil took a deep, exhausted breath. “I'm hungry. I'm going to make something to eat,” he declared with a huff, standing up dramatically. 

Dan's eyes widened, and he grabbed Phil's hand immediately. Anthony's eyes followed the movement with narrowed eyes. “No!” Dan stopped him wistfully. “I don't want to be alone with him. I hate him. He's a moron.”

“Hey! I'm right here,” Anthony snapped.

“Well,” Phil grumbled in annoyance, “Stop playing the game then. You lost fifteen times already!”

“Sixteen, actually,” Anthony chimed in smugly, earning a dark glare from Dan.

“I'll beat you!” Dan snarled angrily.

Anthony shrugged nonchalantly, standing up slowly. “Maybe next time,” he proposed with a smile, glancing at his watch. “I have to go to work soon. I'm on patrol duty tonight.”

Phil turned to Dan quickly, trying very hard to be discreet as he suggested, “Dan, why don't you look up the rules of chess on Youtube?” Anthony gave him a knowing glance. “You can watch videos and learn some tricks. It'll help you beat Anthony.”

Dan blinked, and his eyes gleamed. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Phil nodded. “Open YouTube and type chess like I showed you yesterday.”

Dan nodded, giving Anthony a final distasteful glare before hopping away to Phil's bedroom. Phil's eyes followed him as he left, and he looked back to Anthony with a grim expression. “Well?” he began doubtfully, folding his arms across his chest and raising an inquisitive eyebrow. “Why are you here?”

Anthony blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“You're obviously trying to keep an eye on him. You're watching him,” he stated with a frown. “Studying him.”

Anthony gave him an impressed look. “How did you know that?”

Phil rolled his eyes, appalled. “Why else would you spend so much time playing chess with him?” he formulated carefully. “You obviously don't trust him.”

Anthony blinked at Phil, looking slightly astonished. He rubbed his neck awkwardly and plopped back on the sofa, releasing a deep sigh. “It's not like I don't trust him–” Phil stared at him, and he amended, “Alright, fine. Maybe you're right.” He let out a huff and threw his hands up in defeat. “It's just weird! It's not normal.”

“What do you mean?”

“You haven't noticed, have you?” Anthony asked with a lopsided smirk. 

Phil furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

“There is a major difference between the way he behaves around you and the way he behaves around me,” Anthony revealed perceptively. “It's a little . . . strange.”

Phil furrowed his eyebrows in thought, and Anthony continued solemnly, “He's very comfortable around you. He sits close to you. It's weird,” he concluded with a sigh. “Did you notice the way he was glaring at me? That's how he should act around you, but he doesn't. He's nice to you.”

“Well, obviously,” Phil snorted, “I saved his life, and he trusts me. We're friends.” Phil took a seat on a nearby chair. “You're a Hunter, and he doesn't really know you. Of course, he'll be cold towards you.” Anthony frowned, and Phil huffed at his befuddled expression. “He has a valid reason. You tried to attack him with a spatula.”

Anthony chewed on his bottom lip, furrowing his eyebrows contemplatively. Phil continued with a huge sigh, “He's comfortable around me because we've spent a lot of time together, Anthony.” He carded his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I'm sure he'll warm up to you eventually.”

“That's not it. That'll never happen.” Anthony shook his head. “You don't get it, do you?”

“What?”

Anthony halted, opening his mouth and closing it again. There were several, long minutes of uncertain silence, and Anthony avoided his gaze twice before finally meeting his eyes with a deep, acceding sigh. He intertwined his hands with a hesitant look and leaned forward pensively. “Look, I . . .” He looked unsure and reluctant, and his voice was quiet as he spoke. “I thought about it a lot the other day, and I've decided that I should tell you.”

Phil arched an intrigued eyebrow. “Tell me what, exactly?”

Anthony rubbed his forehead. “My secret.”

“Your . . . ” Phil cracked a confused half-smile. “Your secret?”

Anthony chewed on his bottom lip uncertainly and cracked his knuckles owlishly. “Don't you think I agreed to your requests too easily?” he asked in an overly curious tone. “You told me about Dan, and I just accepted it.”

“What do you mean?” Phil furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. 

Anthony let out a sigh. “I'm a Hunter, you know. Why would I agree to help you hide a winged man?”

Phil sat back with a puzzled frown and inspected his nails absently. “I don't know. We're good friends? You've always taken my side–”

“This is not the first time I've helped a winged man.”

Phil stilled spontaneously, and his jaw hung open in surprise. He snapped his neck up to stare at Anthony's smug face. Did he hear it right? “What did you just say?”

Anthony cracked a small grin. “I'm sorry. I lied to you. I've helped winged men before.” He carded his fingers through his hair and huffed. “I donate blood to the Organization every few months.”

Phil opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, blinking incessantly and gaping at Anthony with an open mouth. “What–” Phil's mind raced back to the past, to every small instance where Anthony had bad-mouthed winged men and expressed his disgust. “What Organization?”

“Well . . .” Anthony rubbed his neck contemplatively, “It's not exactly an Organization. It's just a group of activists . . . from both sides.” He held up his hands with a shrug. “I'm not an activist by the way. I don't participate in anything. I just donate blood.”

“Activists? Donation? What are you talking about?” Phil swallowed in absolute shock, and he didn't know how to react. He was thoroughly confused and panicking. “You don't hate winged men?”

“Nah.” Anthony brushed away his concerns like it was nothing. His lips twitched up into a full-blown smirk. “What? Did you think you were the only person in the entire world to sympathise with winged men?”

“No, that's not . . .” Phil trailed off with pursed lips and a stiff shoulder. “Yeah, maybe.”

Anthony sighed softly and crossed his legs with a small huff. “You're not. Things are changing. There are a lot of people—activists—fighting for equal rights and freedom. The Organization supplies blood to the village every week.”

“Village?” Phil asked with wide, startled eyes. “You mean . . .”

“Yeah.” Anthony nodded. “Most winged men live in hiding, but there is one place where they don't have to hide. The king's property. The village around the castle. It's the only place where winged men can live in peace. Our government can't reach them there,” Anthony looked up with a sharp gaze. “Or else, there'll be war.”

“But-but why didn't you tell me?” Phil inquired angrily with a clenched jaw. “Why? You knew how I felt about winged men. You knew I wanted to help–”

“I didn't trust you,” Anthony disclosed truthfully, glancing up at him. “No offence.”

“No offence?” Phil snapped in a disbelieving voice. He was shocked and appalled. There seemed to be a lot of things going on around him that he wasn't aware of. It angered him. “Really? You don't trust me? You've known me for what–ten years now?”

Anthony scratched the side of his neck stiffly. “Look, that's not what I meant.”

“What the fuck did you mean then?”

Anthony sighed exasperatedly. “Doing something like this is not easy, Phil. You've lived a sheltered, comfortable life. People who are helping winged men are prepared to die. They have nothing to lose. They're risking their life, their reputation,” he admitted in a solemn voice. “You've always been kind, but there is a limit to kindness. It can only go so far. I just didn't think you'd be able to handle it. I'm sorry.”

Phil stared at him quietly. His mind was whirring, and he didn't know how to respond. It was a lot of new, unknown information to take in at the same time, and it overwhelmed him. “So, all this time, whenever you said you hated winged men–”

“Yeah, I was acting,” Anthony confirmed in a sombre voice. “It's another reason why I never told you about it. I'm safe because everyone believes I loathe winged men, but you . . . you just declare your thoughts without caring about how it looks. You're already suspicious, you moron.”

Phil ignored the jab. “What do these people do? What do _you_ do? Why was the Organization made?” He shot questions at Anthony curiously, eager to learn.

“Like I said, all I do is donate blood. They pay me well,” he answered honestly, “Right now, the Organization is like a blood bank. They collect blood and supply it to the village on a weekly basis.” His expression morphed into something more sorrowful. “They're fighting for reform, but, uh, it's not working too well at the moment. Ever since the Prince disappeared without a trace, everything's been utter chaos.”

Phil nodded earnestly, listening to every word, every letter with rapt attention. He was fascinated and delighted by the news. Someone was fighting for justice, and it made a small thrill shoot up his spine. 

Anthony furrowed his eyebrows in thought and mused in a ruminative tone, “If it was back in the day, the Organization could've easily overthrown the government with the power of Winged men, but in this day and age, it's nearly impossible.”

Phil frowned in befuddlement. “Why?”

“Are you kidding?” Anthony let out a loud, exasperated huff. “There's no way. No one will support it. People are living a comfortable life. They won't just throw away their comfort for a cause they don't even believe in.”

Phil stared at the floor introspectively. “Where is this Organization?”

“It's inside the Village,” Anthony answered in a quiet voice and looked down at his watch. “Look, I need to go. I'll tell you more later. PJ's probably waiting for me. You're lucky it was me who found you,” Anthony told him. “No one else is going to help you. I hope you know that. Get rid of him as quickly as you can. Something is not right with him.”

Phil raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Why are you still acting like that?”

“I wasn't lying when I said that he's weird,” Anthony huffed. “You've never seen a winged man, Phil. I have met many. They're not bad people, but they're very hostile creatures,” Anthony explained elaborately. “Winged people don't behave like us. They don't go near each other. They don't hug or touch each other. It's repulsive to them.”

Phil frowned. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “I know you saved his life, but that doesn't matter. A winged man would never let anyone touch his wings,” Anthony stated seriously. “I have interacted with many winged men, but I've never seen them touch anyone. Something's not right.”

Phil rolled his eyes sceptically. “I think they're just misunderstood.”

“No,” Anthony responded, “Not about this.”

Phil frowned, staying silent and pondering it over in his head. He had noticed Dan scooting his chair back and putting distance between him and Anthony. Dan had stayed far away from Anthony throughout the day, moving back further every time Anthony leaned forward. He never seemed repulsed or uncomfortable when Phil touched him, and it made Phil extremely curious.

“Tell me,” Anthony began cautiously, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. “Did he ever . . .” There was a small moment of hesitation. “Did he ever give you feathers or something?”

Phil blinked and frowned in thought. “What?”

Anthony shook his head. “No, that's . . .” He looked down at his watch. “Nevermind. That's absurd.” He let out a small humorous laugh. “There's no way. I'm overthinking.” He stood up and marched towards the door. “Sorry, I really need to go now.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Phil nodded with a frown, following him to the door.

“Be careful, okay?” Anthony advised solemnly. “I still don't trust him.”

“I trust him wholeheartedly,” Phil announced loudly. “You don't have to worry.”

Anthony sighed. “Alright.”


	18. A breath-taking view

Living with Dan was extremely comfortable and pleasant, and before he knew it, another week had gone by. Dan's wings gradually healed completely, and his face was no longer pale and gaunt. He was still pretty much skin and bones, but his overall health seemed to have improved substantially. He smiled and talked a lot more, following Phil around the house and spouting random stories he had heard on T.V.

Spending time with Dan was enjoyable, and days were filled with peace. It was a thrilling, unpredictable experience. He never knew how Dan would react to certain things. He never knew what Dan's response would be, or what kind of amusing expression he would make when confronted with specific circumstances. He caught himself countless times glancing at Dan, thinking about him, laughing with him without restraint. His mind always wandered, and he kept thinking of new ways to tease Dan. He kept finding reasons to bicker with him because it was so fun. He looked forward to it, to every new day, with enthusiasm and an excitement he had never felt before.

Usually, he was alone and bored in his cold apartment, silently working all day on his computer with no one to interrupt him. Sometimes, his friends would visit and bicker with him for a while. They would drink and chat nonchalantly. Sometimes, he would visit them instead, and he would laugh and crack a few jokes with a cold beer in his hand.

It had been a long time since he had actually lived with someone. Occasionally, he would fuck some random guy he had picked up at a pub. Other than that, there was a severe shortage of warmth and comfort in his life. His apartment just never felt like . . . _home._

Dan filled that hole. Dan filled that hole so completely and wonderfully that Phil couldn't even tell if there ever was a hole at all. He was so used to having Dan around that he was dreading the day Dan would have to leave. Dan was healthier now, and he would be completely fine in a few more days. Dan would eventually leave . . .

There was a constant ache in Phil's chest. He never expected this odd and forbidden friendship to last so long but it did, and now he was reluctant to let it die.

“Phil?”

Phil blinked, looking away from the calendar numbly. “Yeah?”

Dan furrowed his eyebrows in concern, stepping closer and closer. His familiar, unique scent made Phil dizzy, and he sighed softly. His worries melted away, and he felt so calm all of a sudden. Dan's smell was intoxicating.

Dan quietly placed his warm, delicate hand on his cheek, and Phil's breath hitched in his throat. He blinked in surprise and looked up questioningly. “Are you okay?” Dan asked worriedly, his voice barely above a whisper, his face so close Phil could see his own reflection in Dan's brown eyes. “You look pale.”

Phil inhaled sharply and stepped back, turning away from Dan's touch. Dan was getting a little _too_ _comfortable_ around Phil. “Y-yeah, I'm okay.”

Phil sighed in defeat. He was acting like an idiot. This was temporary, never permanent. Dan was here merely because he had nowhere else to go. Phil had no right to ask him to stay. In fact, that would be a very dangerous decision to make. He needed to stop thinking about Dan's inevitable departure. He shouldn't care. Dan was a stranger. “I was just looking at the date. Your wings have healed. You just need to gain a bit more weight. You're still really skinny.”

Dan nodded. “Can I fly now?”

“Yeah,” Phil confirmed, “You should be able to, but you'll probably feel dizzy. That's why I will . . . ” Phil swallowed nervously. This should give him a few more weeks with Dan. “I'll let you stay until you don't feel dizzy after flying . . .”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip contemplatively and lifted his head, smiling brightly. “Okay.” Phil sighed in relief and happiness. “But there's something I want to show you!” he revealed with enthusiasm. “Can I?”

Phil raised his eyebrows curiously. “Okay. What?”

“It's not here. You'll have to come with me,” Dan disclosed regretfully, fumbling with his fingers nervously.

Phil blinked. “What? Outside?” His eyes widened. “We're going out?”

Dan's smile slipped off his face. “You don't want to?”

“No, that's–” Phil sighed. “It's risky. Someone could see us.”

Dan pouted. “There's no one outside. It's midnight.” Dan fidgeted with his fingers, looking at Phil with earnest eyes. “Please? Just this one time?”

Phil let out a long, suffering sigh, “I'm sorry, Dan. We can't. Hunters always patrol this area.”

Dan stared at his feet sadly. “Please?”

Phil gave him an exasperated look. “No.” Dan puffed his lips adorably, and Phil held up a hand blankly. “Stop. You can't fool me by pretending to be sad.”

Dan tilted his head and frowned in confusion. “What if I cry?”

Phil rolled his eyes with a scoff. “No.”

Dan pouted dejectedly. “Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no,” Phil huffed and turned away.

Dan extended his hand and grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his path. “We'll need to fly to get there. I promise I'll fly really high,” Dan insisted stubbornly. “No one will see us. It's dark.”

Phil halted in bafflement. His eyes widened, and he glanced at Dan's hand on his wrist. Dan blushed and pulled his hand away, fidgeting with the hem of his T-shirt and avoiding his eyes. “Did you just say fly?” he asked, and Dan nodded nervously. Phil frowned dubiously. “I don't have wings like you.”

“I can take you there,” Dan said anxiously, “My wings are healthy and strong again. No one will see us if we fly. It's not far from here. I can do it. I can–”

Phil stared at Dan in shock. “Did you just say that I'll have to fly with you?”

Dan nodded timidly. “It's safe, right? I can do it.”

Phil gaped at him for several seconds, and Dan fidgeted and averted his eyes with a blush. He extended his hand shyly and tugged on his sleeves adorably. “Please?” he mumbled with a cute pout, and Phil's heart thumped against his chest. _Fuck._

Phil sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Dan was half-right about it being safe. The only risk was near the window, and the chances of being noticed up in the dark sky were very low. Most law-abiding citizens kept their windows and doors shut tightly in fear, and as far as he knew, Hunters usually did not check the sky because they had no way to catch flying Winged men anyway. He sighed again. “Alright. Fine.”

Dan smiled and grinned in excitement, clapping his hands joyfully. “Thank you!” He turned around with a wide smile and stepped towards the window. His expression was indistinguishable as he opened the window, wings lifting from their resting state. He peered outside and inspected the buildings down below with squinted eyes. Confused, Phil raised his eyebrows in question. “What? We're going right now?”

Dan turned to him in puzzlement, tilting his head adorably. “Yeah?”

Sighing in exasperation, Phil walked closer in concern. “Dan.” He stretched his hand and caressed Dan's smooth wings absently. Dan flinched and squeezed his eyes shut, his face flushed and cheeks glowing a bright red. “I don't want you to strain yourself.”

Phil still couldn't understand Dan's bizarre reactions most of the time. Phil wondered if it bothered Dan. “I'm not,” Dan murmured, biting his lip with a gulp. “It's not that far. I can handle it.”

Phil sighed, pulling his hand away. “I don't think–”

“Please? You just agreed!” Dan pleaded desperately, “I can do it. I'm strong.”

Phil sighed and took a deep breath. He knew how stubborn Dan could be. He would pester Phil relentlessly until he surrendered anyway. It was better to agree now. “Are you sure?”

Dan nodded with confidence. “Yeah.”

“Are you going to carry me?” Phil asked in confusion and curiosity. “Can you even do that?”

“I, erm, I can't lift you but–” Dan mumbled in embarrassment and stepped closer to Phil, grabbing his arms and placing it on his waist. “Can you hold on to me? I'm weak, but my wings are strong.”

Phil blinked. “Yeah, sure.” He moved closer and slid his arms around Dan's waist, hugging him tightly and placing his chin on Dan's shoulder. “Like this?”

Dan shivered and stilled immediately. Phil's heart skipped a beat unexpectedly. Suddenly, he was highly conscious of both of their bodies. His entire front side was pressed against Dan's body, and Dan's invigorating smell pulled him in deeper. They were too close, almost stuck together. His heart pounded for no reason. He couldn't help but inhale Dan's smell deep into his lungs and swallow nervously. Dan smelled wonderful, a unique nostalgic smell, like sandalwood and dewdrops early in the morning. Phil breathed it in deeply, and his hands tightened around Dan. He wondered if it was a smell unique to Winged men. “Phil,” Dan stuttered, “I, um . . .”

Phil's eyes flew open, and he pulled back immediately, eyes wide as he stared at Dan's flushed, embarrassed face. He immediately jumped to explain, “Sorry, you smell really good for some reason. So, I–”

“I need to go to the bathroom!” Dan croaked, dashing away from Phil's sight.

Phil furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and sighed tiredly, silence shrouding him from all sides. Perhaps, Dan didn't notice it? He sighed in complete relief. A small, cold breeze flowed in through the open window and fluttered the curtains, the ruffling sound echoing emptily in the dark room. Phil huffed and took a seat on the chair, crossing his legs in boredom and waiting for Dan quietly.

~*~

“Can you really do it? Are you sure?” Phil asked in concern, staring down at the street below through his window. His shaking hands were wrapped around Dan's waist, holding on tightly. There was a loud, fluttering noise and Phil turned his head to see Dan's outstretched wings.

“You're making me nervous,” Dan accused in a timid voice. “I can do it.”

“Alright,” Phil heaved a small sigh, analysing the empty street below. “Let's go. I can't see anyone. I trust you. Don't drop me. I can't die before finishing my novel.”

Dan tensed and slowly relaxed, arms coiling around Phil's waist. “I won't,” he mumbled confidently.

Phil blinked and his eyes widened when he heard the whipping sound of Dan's large wings. It fluttered incessantly as he leapt out of the window, taking Phil with him. An odd sensation of weightlessness overtook him, and his legs dangled in the air without a foothold. He took a sharp, anxious intake of breath, holding on for dear life as he gaped over Dan's shoulder at the street below. Dan's wings slashed through the wind, the harsh, battering sound loud in Phil's ears. He soared into the night sky effortlessly. The moon was bright in the royal-blue sky, and Phil's breath caught in his throat.

“Whoa,” he exclaimed, hands tightening around Dan, hair lashing against his face. Dan's arms wrapped around his waist and supported him, taking some of his tension away. He looked down and saw the tiny, round balls of light all across the city, appearing as little specks in empty darkness. “This is . . .”

“Beautiful, right?” Dan murmured excitedly, and Phil suddenly felt choked for some strange reason. Everything felt so small and insignificant from up there.

“It is,” he whispered and his heart ached. A few more weeks and Dan would have to leave . . .

Phil blinked and snapped out of his unreasonable thoughts, inhaling deeply and pushing the topic to the back of his mind. He was flying for god's sake. He bit his lip and peered over Dan's shoulder, enjoying the scene from above. It was like an out of body experience; it was the chance of a lifetime. He gazed at everything, burning the scenery to his memory. He could see the rooftops of tall buildings, and he could see the twisting, turning paths of the River Thames. The flickering lights and cars lined up in parking lots, roads spread out between buildings like large branches of a tree, every small circle of yellow caused by streetlights was now etched in his mind. It was a breath-taking view that he could never forget.

It was all over in a mere few minutes. The movements of Dan's wings slowed, and he descended silently. There was no light except for the moon above, and Phil's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his feet touched soft grass. “What?” He blinked, letting go of Dan and staring around at his dark, unfamiliar surroundings. “What is this place? Where are we?”

Dan grinned smugly. “We're in my favourite place.” He landed on the ground and immediately stumbled, holding his head in pain. “Ow.”

Phil wrapped an arm around his waist and supported him, holding him up. “Easy.” Dan placed his head on Phil's shoulder and smiled at him, a lazy, relaxed sort of smile that made Phil's heart flutter. His face was so close that Phil's heart pounded fiercely. He was so beautiful . . .

“What do you mean by favourite?” Phil turned away quietly, staring at the trees and their looming shadows. Something niggled at the back of his mind, some important information. “Wait, is this–”

Dan grinned excitedly and pointed towards a specific direction. “Come on, let's go.”

Phil's eyes widened in horror as the realization dawned on him. He followed Dan's instructions and quietly marched forward to their main destination, dragging Dan with him. His heart leapt to his throat when he saw it in front of him. “Midnight Lake!” Phil gasped, “This is Midnight Lake!”

Dan grinned, eyes sparkling mischievously. Heart thudding, Phil's anxious eyes turned to the calm surface of the lake, mouth opening in quiet wonder. A small, cold breeze drifted through the tree leaves and caused little ripples on the still water, disturbing the reflection of the moon on the surface of the lake. “Dan, this is . . .”

Dan smiled in satisfaction, and stared at the calm stillness of the lake. Phil's breath steadied and his heartbeat slowed down to a normal pace. His eyes remained fixated on the mesmerizing shimmer of the lake. It was a large lake, surrounded by green trees and small plants. “Dan, this is Midnight Lake,” Phil murmured in a daze, dropping back to the grass. “This is part of the King's property. Only Winged men are allowed here. I'm not–I can't be here. This could start a war.”

Every small shift in the air made the black water glimmer under the moonlight, and Phil couldn't stop gaping at its beauty. “I know,” Dan huffed, plopping back to Phil's lap and circling his arms around Phil's neck, “No one ever comes here. I just wanted to show this place to you.”

Phil's heart thudded, and he raised an eyebrow. “Uh, what are you doing?”

Dan looked up and blinked. “I feel dizzy. I want to sit.”

“Yeah, but why are you sitting on my lap?”

Dan gave him an incredulous look, as if the answer should be obvious to Phil. “Because I can't sit on the grass. It's too dirty,” he explained. “I don't like dirt.”

Phil stared at him blankly. Their faces were too close, and Dan's arms were still wrapped around Phil's neck. Phil gazed silently at his smooth cheeks, soft locks of curly hair, bright eyes and the red of his lips . . .

Dan tilted his head in confusion and gave him a bright grin. Phil stared at him for a few, silent moments and turned away, sighing softly and regaining his composure. He pushed Dan roughly to the ground, and he tumbled away onto the grass, his arms and limbs spread out on the ground.

“Is that so?” Phil smirked gleefully.

Dan groaned in pain and immediately paled, jumping up in shock and dusting his clothes hastily. “Ew.”

Phil rolled his eyes at Dan and stood up quietly, proceeding to take off his shirt without another word. Dan looked up with a frown at the rustling noise of his belt and gasped. “What!” he gaped at Phil in shock and embarrassment. “What are you doing!”

“Going for a swim,” Phil explained, folding his shirt and placing it on the grass. “Do you want to come?”

“I-I–” Dan stared at his naked torso and blushed, “Um . . .”

“What's wrong?” Phil furrowed his eyebrows, taking off his jeans. Dan turned away quickly, and his wings flapped noisily, the sound sharp in the silence. Phil snickered, a bit puzzled. “You're so weird, Dan.”

“I'm not weird!” Dan hissed, grabbing his wings to stop its movement. “You're weird!” Dan stared at his torso and blushed again, his wings rising to their full capacity and fluttering beautifully. Dan turned away. “You can't just . . . just reveal yourself in front of . . . in front of . . .” he bit his lip and trailed off in embarrassment. “Humans are stupid!”

Phil smirked but kept quiet, dipping his feet into the water and slowly slipping into the lake. The water was cold and the air was chilly, but as he moved his arms fluidly, the tension in his bones lifted. He paddled languidly towards a more deep end until his torso was submerged in water. His muscles relaxed and he exhaled softly, floating above lazily. “It feels so good,” he breathed, lying still on the surface and staring at the starry sky.

Phil closed his eyes and inhaled the smell of earth, opening his eyes to look back at Dan. Dan was already staring back at him, brown eyes wide, glistening, and mouth agape. Phil chuckled. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Dan flushed. “It's nothing.”

“Hmm,” Phil scratched his chin dramatically. “It definitely is something.”

Dan shook his head. “No.”

Phil raised his eyebrows teasingly. “Are you bothered by the fact that I'm naked?”

Dan's eyes widened, and he lowered his gaze, fidgeting with his sleeves. _Guilty._ “No.”

“Yes, you are!” Phil laughed in amusement. “Don't be a prude, Dan.”

Dan blinked and looked up in confusion. “What does that mean?” he asked in puzzlement. “What's a prude?”

“You.”

Dan frowned. “You confuse me.”

Phil sighed in exasperation. “Well, a prude is someone who gets easily embarrassed by sex or nudity.”

Dan narrowed his eyes. “I'm not a prude. You . . . ” Dan huffed. “You are just too shameless.”

“I'm not shameless,” Phil blurted in shock, appalled.

Dan folded his arms across his chest stubbornly. “Yes, you are.”

Phil sighed, rolling his eyes with a smile. “Alright. Whatever you say, prude.”

“Don't call me a prude!” Dan snapped.

Phil held his hands up in surrender. “Alright. Alright. I won't.” He chuckled in amusement and slowly drifted through the water, closing his eyes. There was silence for a long time, and Phil was feeling calm and happy. “This place is amazing.”

Dan scooted closer to the water quietly. “Do you like it?”

“What?”

“This place,” Dan huffed. “I knew you would like it.” Dan smiled at him. “I wanted to show you. It's really calm here.”

Phil moved his hands smoothly through the water and gave Dan a small smile back. “Yeah,” he murmured peacefully, “It is.”


	19. Closer to you

Phil cruised languidly through the water, fluid strokes leading him to Dan. The air was freezing but endurable, with a distinct, woody smell of fresh grass and moss. It was dark blue everywhere he looked, but it was an oddly pleasant night. His hair was wet and dripping, stuck to his forehead messily. He inhaled deeply and relaxed his taut muscles, feet touching a rock underwater for support. Standing half-submerged in the lake, he teasingly splashed cold water at Dan, drenching his shirt with little drops of water. “Come on, Dan. What are you so scared of?” He smirked in amusement.

Dan scooted back in fear, shaking his head vehemently. “No. No, I won't step in the water!” he yelped, dodging another cold splash of water. “There are probably snakes and insects and–and ghosts and all kinds of things in there!”

“Ghosts?” Phil raised his eyebrows with a snigger, thoroughly amused. His chest was strangely filled with elation, and his gaze wouldn't stop following Dan. It was probably due to the calm atmosphere of the lake. The night was beguiling him, and his weird sensations were the product of that. “Don't be stupid. Come on.”

“No.” Dan shook his head fearfully. “No, the water is dirty! I don't like it.”

“It's not!”

“It is!” Dan grumbled stubbornly. “Look!” He pointed towards Phil's left. “Over there. That's garbage! Do you want me to swim in garbage?”

Phil turned his head and frowned, looking back at Dan with a blank expression. “That's a leaf and a piece of wood.”

“It's garbage!” Dan declared persistently, glaring at him, his cheeks pink. _Cute._

“Alright, fine,” Phil huffed in resignation. “Just your feet then. Is that okay? It'll feel good, I promise.” Dan continued to glare at him in suspicion, sulking by himself. “Come on, Dan. Just for a little while. I'll even hold your hand.”

Dan gazed at him nervously, chewing on his bottom lip dubiously. Phil sighed exasperatedly and smiled kindly, holding out his hand. “Don't you trust me?”

Dan blinked and stared at him, glancing at his hand and back into his blue eyes with a look of surprise. His wings, as usual, started fluttering unexpectedly. Dan blushed, giving Phil a tiny nod. “Okay.”

“Good boy,” Phil murmured softly, the words slipping out of his lips involuntarily. Dan rolled his jeans up to his knees and took Phil's hands, scooting towards the edge. He chewed on his bottom lip anxiously and cautiously dipped his feet into the water, looking up at Phil earnestly with bright brown eyes. There was a bit of trepidation on his face, but he looked equally excited.

“That wasn't so bad now, was it?” Phil asked softly, and Dan nodded quietly, holding on tightly to Phil's hand. “Does it feel good?”

Dan blinked, peering into the water in wonder. “Yeah.”

Phil huffed loudly, and Dan looked up questioningly, tilting his head in confusion. He gave Dan an evil grin and slid his arms around Dan's waist, pulling him into the water in one smooth movement. Dan screamed in shock, “Phil!”

Phil smirked gleefully and a loud laugh slipped out of his mouth, his chest full as he heaved, pulling Dan further into the water until he was half-submerged in it. Dan shrieked in fear and punched Phil's chest repeatedly, eyes wide in horror. “Why did you do that!”

Phil laughed joyously in amusement, looking at Dan with a bright grin. “Honestly, Dan. Are you a cat? It's not that–”

“Snake!” Dan gasped in panic, pure terror on his face as he peered into the water. “A snake just touched my leg!”

Phil frowned in confusion but before he could reply or search for the aggressor, Dan threw himself at him, wrapping his arms around Phil's neck and squeezing him tightly. “Phil!” he squeaked in fright. “Snake!”

“It's a plant, Dan,” he tried to console, peering into the water and smiling in amusement. “It's just a harmless plant, you idiot.”

Dan trembled violently, and his arms tightened around Phil's neck, his body pressed against Phil, barely an inch of gap between them. Phil swallowed and bit his lip, highly conscious of Dan's body pressed against his own. Dan was fully clothed, but Phil was wearing only his boxer shorts. “Er . . .” Phil gulped and stilled when he felt Dan tremble. “Dan, hey . . .” he murmured softly, patting his back. “Are you alright?”

Minutes slipped by and there was no response. Dan continued to tremble, and Phil instantly felt remorse for his actions. His intention was to make Dan laugh. He was always searching for a way to make him laugh these days, and all he wanted was for Dan to have some fun. In his haste to make it happen, he had accidentally scared Dan instead. His amused smile vanished, and he rubbed Dan's back reassuringly. “Dan, it was a plant,” he repeated in a soothing voice. “You're alright. I'm here with you, okay? I've got you. You're safe.”

Dan sniffed and slowly nodded against his shoulder, breathing heavily. He didn't let go of Phil. His arms tightened even more, and Phil felt him shaking. His eyebrows creased in immense concern, and a stab of pain shot through his chest. He instantly felt terrible for making Dan cry. His worries increased tenfold. He rubbed Dan's back reassuringly, desperately trying to comfort him. “Dan, it's okay,” he murmured quietly, “I've got you, okay? You're safe. I promise.”

Phil chewed on his bottom lip guiltily. “I'm sorry, Dan. It's my fault. I shouldn't have scared you like that,” he whispered regretfully.

“No . . .” Dan mumbled suddenly, his voice wavering and vulnerable. “It's not . . . not your fault. I just . . . I remembered something.”

Phil sighed deeply in relief and stayed quiet. Dan hugged him tightly, his face buried in Phil's shoulder. He didn't say anything for a long time, and Phil continued to rub his back in a comforting way. He wanted to ask, but he knew Dan wouldn't tell him. For whatever reason, Dan had always hidden his personal details from Phil. He had always refused to talk about his past.

“Can we . . . can we stay like this?” Dan whispered weakly in a timid voice. “F-for a while?”

Phil's heart thudded against his ribs, and his throat felt choked all of a sudden. He stood completely still, standing in the water with water covering him up to his chest. Dan's brown hair tickled his cheeks, and the silence pressed in his ears from all sides. He exhaled slowly and tried to calm the rapid pounding of his heart.

“Yeah,” he murmured quietly and lifted his arms as if in a daze, wrapping them around Dan tightly. Dan's body was soft and fragile, and there was always a rich, earthy smell of sandalwood and lilacs around him. It somehow always managed to soothe his nerves and make him dizzy with a blissful sensation. It felt like heaven to be so close to him. It was deeply comforting, _liberating_ , and Phil suddenly didn't want to let him go. He didn't want Dan to leave . . .

Dan didn't speak for a long time, and Phil waited quietly without a word, something heavy settling in his chest. His emotions were all over the place, running haywire. He was getting too attached to Dan and his adorable strangeness, so attached that he felt like it was impossible to get detached at this point. He wanted Dan to stay with him. He didn't want Dan to leave. Was leaving really necessary? Dan wasn't bothering anyone by staying with Phil, was he?

Phil's arms tightened around Dan's waist, and he buried his face in Dan's shoulder, squeezing him tightly. Dan didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of it. Why were humans doing this to people like Dan? Dan didn't deserve to be constantly worried and scared for his life. He shouldn't have to hide and live in seclusion. Phil wished Dan could be out in the sun, soaking the warmth and surrounded by nature. He wished Dan could breathe the fresh air and fly whenever he wanted to his heart's content. He wished Dan could live a normal life and . . . and continue to stay friends with him.

“Phil?” Dan whispered in a small voice.

Phil snapped out of his thoughts instantly. He bit his bottom lip, and his arms loosened. “Yeah.”

“Sorry,” Dan murmured shyly as he pulled back, his cheeks pink in embarrassment.

Phil swallowed and shoved his thoughts to the back of his mind. After all, it was useless to hope for something that could never realistically happen. He was being stupid. He was acting like a complete moron. He needed to put more distance between him and Dan. This was _wrong_. “It's alright,” he said softly, taking a deep breath and regaining his composure. “Are you okay?”

Dan nodded. “Yeah.”

Phil smiled kindly. “Good.” He clutched Dan's hand and pulled him forward. “Come on then. Swim with me.”

“Erm . . .” Dan began awkwardly. “I don't know how to swim.”

Phil halted immediately, looking back with wide eyes. “Really?” he snickered in amusement. “You don't know how to–”

Dan punched his arm in embarrassment. “Shut up.”

Phil rolled his eyes and huffed. “It's fine, Dan. I'm just joking. Let's go over there,” Phil pointed towards the shallow end. “I'll teach you.”

Dan frowned sceptically. “Okay.”

~*~

“See?” Phil laughed pleasantly, out of breath as he dropped back on the grass. “It's fun, right?” He hadn't taught Dan anything. All they had done was splash water at each other and laugh.

Dan grinned brightly and heaved, taking huge gulps of air. He collapsed back on the ground in exhaustion, his earthy eyes were vivid and aglow with exhilaration. His hair was dripping wet and his clothes were soaked, transparent and sticking to his skin as he sprawled on the ground. His curly locks were splayed across the grass, and his pale body was clearly visible through his transparent T-shirt. His skin looked milky white and smooth under the moonlight, his wings stretched out on both sides like an angel, shimmering brilliantly.

Phil's sharp gaze roamed quickly from the beads of water on his long eyelashes to his pale shoulders and pink nipples poking through his flimsy, wet T-shirt. He swallowed and turned away hastily with a blink. “Argh, I'm tired,” he groaned deliberately to snap himself out of it, dropping back on the grass and lying still, staring at the night sky.

They lay there in silence for many silent moments, and Phil's breaths steadied, his heartbeat slowing down to a calm pace. The quiet rustling of leaves in the wind soothed his mind, and he closed his eyes, a small smile on his face. The air was cold against his wet skin, but it was not uncomfortable. Everything around him was peaceful and hushed. It made him relax, and he felt untroubled and free of worries for the first time in his life.

“Phil?” Dan murmured quietly after what felt like hours of undisturbed silence.

“Hmm?” Phil breathed deeply and opened his eyes, gazing at the bright sky above. 

“Can I ask you something weird?” he asked timidly.

Phil snorted. “Yeah. When are you not weird?”

Dan fidgeted with his sleeves, and Phil watched him from the corner of his eyes. “Are you married?” 

Phil blinked and spluttered, turning his face to Dan in shock. “What?!”

Dan flinched, biting his lip. “Are you?”

“No!” Phil frowned, letting out an awkward laugh. “Why would you think that?”

Dan shrugged nervously. “I was just asking . . .”

Phil furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Okay, but I'm not married. You've been living with me for almost a month now. You know I live alone.”

Dan nodded and chewed on his bottom lip, fidgeting with his sleeves again. Phil eyed his hands and recognized the habit quickly. “What is it, Dan?” 

Dan frowned, turning to him. “What?”

Phil huffed and rolled his eyes exasperatedly, gesturing to Dan's fumbling hands. “You're nervous. What is it?” he asked plainly. “There's something else, isn't there?”

Dan blinked repeatedly, gaping at Phil. He blushed and looked away quickly, giving Phil a tiny nod. “Um,” Dan began awkwardly, “Do you have–” He stopped and bit his lip, looking flustered. “Do you have a mate?”

“Mate?” Phil frowned in confusion. As soon as the realization dawned on him, he let out a small laugh. “Oh, you mean a partner?” Dan nodded. “No, I don't.” Phil chuckled in amusement.

Dan's posture relaxed immediately, and his frown melted away as if in relief. Phil shook his head, wondering why Dan was suddenly questioning him. It felt like Dan's lousy attempt to strengthen their friendship, and he grinned. “Why did you want to know?” 

Dan rolled away from Phil and turned his back on him, his wings fluttering awkwardly. “No reason,” he murmured in a quiet, shy voice.

Phil huffed, confused by Dan's behaviour. “Are you married? Do _you_ have a mate?” he questioned back.

Dan tensed instantly. “Um, no,” he answered, but his wings immediately rose, whipping through the air and fluttering so sharply that Phil scooted back in surprise to avoid being cut.

“Whoa!” Phil yelped, “Control your wings, you idiot.” His wings immediately stilled, and Phil huffed, asking curiously, “Have you ever been in a relationship?”

Dan shook his head. “No.”

“Really?” Phil frowned. “Why?”

Dan didn't reply. He sat up quietly, and his wings slowly stopped fluttering. He pulled his knees to his chest and sat silently, placing his chin on his knees and looking small and vulnerable. Phil smiled at his adorable posture, scooting closer to him. He placed his hand on Dan's head and ruffled his cute little curls. “Are you okay?” he murmured softly.

Dan's eyes were bright, and his cheeks turned pink as he stared at the surface of the lake. “I'm okay,” he responded in a small voice.

Phil sighed, brushing Dan's wet hair back from his forehead. “We should go back. You're all soaked. You'll catch a cold.”

“I want to stay,” Dan announced quietly, avoiding Phil's eyes. “For a while.” Phil sighed and opened his mouth to explain, but Dan turned his head, looking at Phil with those soft brown eyes. “Is that okay?”

Phil stared at him for a few seconds, completely mesmerized. He finally turned away and huffed. “Alright.”

Dan didn't say anything for a long time, staying quiet as he gazed at the water. Phil sat quietly, adjusting his position every few minutes. Bored and listless, he grabbed little stones and rocks from around him and began to throw them into the lake, silently watching the ripples it caused on the surface.

“Why do your people hate me?” Dan whispered after what felt like hours, fumbling with his wet sleeves nervously.

Phil blinked at the unexpected question, turning to Dan. “I . . . I don't know. Maybe because they don't know you,” he answered thoughtfully. “They don't understand you.”

“Understand me?” Dan asked confusedly, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrows curiously.

“Yeah.” Phil nodded, falling back and staring at the sky. The wind howled softly in his ears, drying his wet hair. “Humans are scared of things they don't understand.”

Dan frowned, looking puzzled. “Why?”

“I'm not sure.” Phil sighed, folding his arms behind his head. “Probably because they don't want to get hurt.”

“I won't hurt them,” Dan replied solemnly, looking serious.

Phil turned to him and smiled. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I know.”

Dan stared at him for a while and said, “You're not like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like them,” Dan answered in confusion. “Why don't you hate me?”

“Why would I hate you, Dan?” Phil chuckled jokingly. 

Dan stared at his knees in silence. His expression was sad, his eyes lowered in shame. His hands clenched into fists, and he looked close to tears. “I'm not like you,” he murmured wistfully. “I'm an animal.”

Phil blinked in shock and his heart sank in sorrow. Dan's eyes were tearful as he placed his forehead on his knees and mumbled quietly in a small, vulnerable voice, “I wish I was a human.”

Phil stared at Dan with startled eyes for a several moments, understanding Dan's strong feelings for the first time. His chest squeezed in pain, and a desperate, powerful urge to protect Dan arose in his body. It was the first time he had seen this part of Dan, this utterly vulnerable and self-hating part of Dan that made him want to cry. At that moment, Dan was completely open and authentic. His true emotions were as clear as day. Phil could tell Dan had repressed these thoughts deep inside of him, closing the door to it tightly.

Sighing deeply, Phil shifted closer to Dan and slid his arms around Dan, pulling him into a half-hug. Dan lifted his head and blinked up at him through his eyelashes, looking surprised. Phil gave him a gentle smile. “Technically, we are all animals, Dan,” he whispered in a soft voice, eyeing Dan's long sleeves impatiently. It had been irking him for a while now. He took them into his hands tenderly and began to roll up his sleeves in silence. He could feel Dan's stare burning into his head, awe in his eyes.

“What . . .” Dan blinked repeatedly, making Phil look up. Dan's eyes were wide and shocked as he stared at Phil's hands. He grabbed Phil's right hand and stared at it, looking stunned. “What is this?”

Phil frowned down at his hand and gulped nervously. He had been making small cuts on his fingers and palms every few days, collecting blood in a cup and adding it to Dan's tea. Dan liked a lot of sugar in his tea, and the sweetness probably concealed the taste of blood. The result of it was patently evident on Dan's healthy body and healed wings. “Don't worry about it,” he responded sincerely, pulling his hands back. The cuts were very minor, and the pain was tolerable. “It'll go away in a few days.”

“You . . . ” Dan stared at him in shock. “You were–Is this why my wings healed so quickly?” 

“Yeah,” Phil nodded, “Sorry, I lied. I've been adding blood to your tea.” He reached out to touch Dan's wings. “I didn't think it would work, but I had to try. I searched it on Google, and I tried to–”

“Why?” Dan sniffed suddenly, looking at Phil with hurt in his eyes. He gave Phil a betrayed look, and Phil furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “I didn't want you to. I told you not to–”

“What did you think then?” Phil asked with a frown, “That you were just getting better miraculously? Of course, I was giving you blood, Dan.”

“I don't want blood!” Dan snapped loudly, teary-eyed. 

“Don't be stupid,” Phil retorted irritably, “You can't survive without it. You'll die without blood. Don't you get that? Are you a fucking idiot?”

Dan sniffed and pulled his knees to his chest weakly, biting his lip. “I don't care,” he sniffled stubbornly, “I don't like hurting people. I don't want to hurt people to survive.”

Phil had opened his mouth to counter-attack, but his witty response died in his throat when he heard Dan's words. He snapped his jaw shut and went quiet, staring at Dan dismally. He felt like he was viewing different parts of Dan. One by one, he was beginning to notice Dan's various sides. Dan was a Winged man, but he wasn't dangerous or hostile. He could be unbelievably stubborn, but he was well-mannered and easy to please. He loved sweets and hated everything spicy. He was always honest about his feelings, and his carefree, effortless smiles always made Phil's chest flutter. He was a complete weirdo who claimed to be homeless but acted like he belonged in a royal palace, but for some reason, Phil really enjoyed being with him. Slowly, they were growing closer.

After some silent minutes of contemplation, he placed a hand on Dan's shoulder. “Hey,” he murmured tenderly, “You're not hurting me.” He gave Dan a gentle smile. “You're not hurting anyone, Dan.”

Dan sniffed, and Phil wanted to give him a hug. “I am.”

“No, you're not,” he whispered in a reassuring voice. He wanted to ease Dan's pain. “Look at it this way,” he began to explain, “Do you think a lion eating a deer is wrong? Would you want the lion to starve and die?”

Dan peeked at him confusedly and frowned, shaking his head. “No,” he murmured in a weak voice.

“It's the same thing. Don't you think?” he elaborated gently, “Do you know about blood donation?” Dan nodded wordlessly. “Sometimes even humans need blood. When a person gets into an accident, sometimes they need blood to survive. Do you think that's wrong? Do you think they shouldn't be given blood?”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip and hesitated before answering, “No.”

“Exactly.” Phil smiled. “You can't survive without blood, Dan. Besides, losing a few drops of blood is not going to affect me. I have a lot of blood. I was going to donate it anyway. You're not hurting me at all.” He lifted his hand and showed his palm to Dan. “If you're worried about the cuts, I can ask Anthony to get me some syringes.” 

Dan stared at his knees silently, not looking convinced. His eyes were filled with reluctance and concern. Phil sighed exasperatedly and pulled him into a hug. “Stop worrying so much, you idiot,” he whispered against Dan's shoulder, pulling back to cup his cheeks. He gave Dan a small smile and stared at Dan's delicate face with determination. “It's okay. You don't need to be a human, Dan. I like you just the way you are.”

There was a stunned silence for a few minutes, and Dan stared at him with admiration evident on his face. He gaped at Phil with wide, glowing eyes and pink cheeks. His wings fluttered beautifully, drops of water glistening in the moonlight like dewdrops. “Um, I–” Dan started, blinking repeatedly. “Um.”

Phil raised his eyebrows and felt a warm flutter in his stomach. “What?”

Dan flushed. He dropped his forehead on Phil's shoulder, his fingers curling against Phil's chest. “Thank you,” he murmured in a meek voice.

Phil let out a small laugh. “It's alright, Dan,” he stated quietly, “It's late. Let's just go back, okay?”

Dan nodded soundlessly, and Phil pulled away, standing up and proceeding to pull on his jeans. His mind was still filled with Dan's sorrow-filled words. He couldn't stop thinking about it. His heart ached when he thought about it. Dan truly was harmless. He was shy and caring and kind. He was polite and thoughtful. He was a normal person who had his own likes and dislikes. He loved watching stupid penguin videos and bickered with Phil at every opportunity. Even though there was nothing wrong with him, there was no way he could ever live a peaceful life. Hoping was undeniably meaningless. Their friendship could never last. Phil knew it from the start, but he didn't want to admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! How do you like the story so far? It's just the beginning! This fic is pretty long and complicated, and I just wanted to tell you to remember the characters. There is no such thing as an unimportant character. I'm saying this because I only update once a week. I'll introduce a character but when they make another appearance, it'll be like five months later. You'll have forgotten them and it'll make you go "Huh? Who the fuck is this?" So, yeah. Just remember the names of people if you can :) See you next Thursday! ^.^


	20. The King's castle

“Connor!”

Connor jerked back in surprise at the abrupt shout of his name. He had been standing near the massive entrance gates of the castle, looking out at the open fields of lush green surrounding the castle with a sad gaze. He couldn't quite remember for how long he had been standing there, but he always felt oddly calm—even during a time like this—when he longingly surveyed the beautiful landscape. The sky was a lovely cerulean-blue, and it was a bright, sunny day. The pleasant smell of exotic flowers from the royal garden and the cold breeze from the lake made him almost forget his unfortunate situation.

Connor turned his unhappy gaze away from the giant water fountain, looking back in annoyance at the King's guard who had interrupted his quiet moment of peace. His hand had been resting unknowingly against the large marble sculpture of a naked lady whose name he had never bothered to ask. She was supposed to be the King's ancestor, and he discreetly pulled his hand away, standing straight. “Yes?”

“King Dominic has requested your presence,” The guard kindly informed him. “He's in the throne room with Arthur.”

Connor nodded with a small, dejected sigh. After all, he was aware of what the King would ask. He had been dreading it for a few days now, and he had hand-picked words and prepared reassuring sentences to present before him. “You may go,” he dismissed the guard who gave him a small nod and turned away, returning to his post.

Connor inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air to comfort and calm himself. He carded his fingers through his hair and combed it, making himself presentable. He pulled his waistcoat down, buttoned his loose cuffs and re-adjusted his tie just in case. “You can do it, Connor,” he muttered to himself, marching forward to the entrance hall.

The floors of the entrance hall were decked with plush, red carpets and an intricately designed chandelier hung from the high ceiling. The hall was decorated with various creepy marble sculptures that the King should've gotten rid of a long time ago. The entire castle was eerily quiet, filled with a silence that made every small clink and thud echo loudly. It was extremely rare for the castle to be this quiet. Usually, there were several different people and workers roaming about for no reason. After the Prince's disappearance, King Dominic was always in a sour mood, demanding undisturbed silence all day.

Connor stalked down the massive hallway, turning different corners and marching up a couple of steps to stand uneasily in front of the huge oak doors of the throne room. There were two guards posted on either side of the door, sitting on comfortable wooden chairs. Times had changed. The guards were no longer necessary, and they were now merely expensive ornaments. Connor gave them an acknowledging nod, and they nodded back with appreciative smiles, standing up from their seats to open the door for him. He waved a hand absently in dismissal, and they sat back down with identical shrugs.

Connor chewed on his bottom lip anxiously, taking a very deep breath. He nervously fiddled with his cuffs purely out of habit and finally pushed the doors open with a loud, booming creak.

The throne room was as elegant as the rest of the grandiose castle, furnished and renovated completely to fit modern standards while still maintaining some of its ancient beauty. It was adorned on both sides with huge, radiant pillars with ornate designs and given a coating of real gold. The floors were layered with expensive rugs imported from India and the walls were fully veiled by tapestries embellished with gold and silver embroidery. There were costly sofas and cosy chairs on either side of the throne for the council to sit. Every nook and corner of the giant room was spotless and clean, not a single speck of dust to be seen anywhere.

Connor always felt small and weak in the large room. “Um, uh . . . er, good morning.” He bowed slightly, biting his lip tightly and cringing at his own awkwardness. King Dominic was sitting on his throne, his feet propped up casually on a chair. His best friend and right-hand man, Arthur, was sitting near him in a chair, arrogantly looking down his nose at Connor. Connor glanced at him and flinched back slightly.

“Drop the formalities, Connor,” King Dominic grunted in irritation.

_Ah_. He was in an angry mood today. _Fuck._ Connor faltered but obediently lifted his head and relaxed his shoulders. “Er, sorry. It's a habit.”

“Guards!” The King shouted in a booming voice that made Connor flinch. “Leave us.”

The two guards standing on either side of the door nodded politely and walked away without protests. King Dominic turned his gaze to Connor, standing up from his seat gracefully. “Where is he?” he asked in a tense voice, “Where the hell is my son, Connor?”

There it was. The inevitable question he didn't know the answer to. “Um, we're doing everything we can to locate him. He doesn't seem to have taken his phone, or else we could've easily tracked him down. I–we, uh,” Arthur was glaring at him, and Connor fumbled over his words nervously. “E-everyone is looking for him. I've sent men to the other side, but unfortunately, no one knows where he could possibly be–”

“I want my son!” He snapped with a clenched jaw, cutting him off mid-ramble. He climbed down the steps and approached Connor, his eyes filled with sorrow. He stood a safe distance away, but Connor was surprised to notice the King's trembling hand. His steps were weak and unsteady. Connor had heard the guards talking about the King's sickness. Apparently, the grief of losing his son was too much for him. “Connor, you were his best friend.”

Connor nodded with a sudden lump in his throat. Memories of his best friend haunted him every night, and he didn't know what to do anymore. King Dominic's gaze softened, but there was undeniable fear and sorrow on his face. “Where is my son, Connor?” he asked in a fear-filled voice, “Where is Dan?”

Connor chewed on his bottom lip, and he could feel Arthur's stare burning into his head. “Um, we're still searching, and I–”

“Did they arrest him? Did they arrest my son?” King Dominic's voice was frantic. “Tell me the truth.”

“No,” Connor denied immediately, “We have spies among Hunters. We have human spies everywhere. He hasn't been arrested yet. The news has reached them, but he hasn't been captured. I'm sure of it.”

“If they harm my son–” King Dominic's eyes glowed a burning red, and his wings shot out threateningly, making Connor jerk back in fear. “–I'll kill each and every single one of them. There will be no mercy.”

Connor gulped in terror. He knew it wasn't an empty threat. The King was a powerful man, and the only reason the stupid humans were thriving was because of the King's strong conviction. The royal family had always believed in peace, and the King didn't wish to harm anyone, but stupid little humans took that as a weakness instead. They hadn't seen the extent of the King's power. “It won't come to that,” he assured confidently, “We'll find him. Dan's strong. He's stronger than all of us combined. No one can harm him.”

King Dominic sighed. “You're right,” he murmured in a quiet voice, “Find my son, Connor. Find him. Bring him back to me.” He swallowed and walked back to his throne, slightly stumbling on the way. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked weaker and weaker every day.

Arthur stepped forward to help, shooting Connor another dark glare. King Dominic dismissed his concerns with a wave of his hand. “Dominic,” Arthur uttered in a silent voice, “You should return to your chambers and rest. I'll take care of everything else.”

King Dominic rubbed his forehead in exhaustion. “You're right,” he grumbled. “I haven't slept properly in a long time.” He stood up straight and his outstretched wings collapsed tiredly behind his back. He waved a dismissive hand at Connor. “You may leave.”

Connor placed his gloved hand on his waist and bowed fluidly in respect. Arthur clicked his tongue in displeasure, and Connor glanced at him timidly to notice him make a gesture with his hand, commanding him to stay. Connor nodded dutifully and stepped aside to let the King pass through. He watched awkwardly in silence as Arthur escorted King Dominic towards the door and called for the guards. The guards bowed respectfully and flanked King Dominic, guiding him to his chambers in the East Tower. Arthur closed the door quietly and turned to Connor with an angry, disapproving look on his face. “You fool!” he spat furiously.

“Father,” Connor sighed in exasperation, relaxing his muscles completely and loosening his tie in relief. He took a deep breath, and the tension slowly began to disappear. The royal family was obsessed with physical perfection for no apparent reason, but Connor had always hated being in formal attire.

“I told you to stop the search,” he hissed with gritted teeth, “Stop this nonsense at once!”

Bright sunlight dripped into the room through the massive glass windows, and Connor eyed the glinting golden rings around his father's every finger with a look of pure disgust. He glanced away and carded his fingers through his hair with a long sigh. _Greedy fucker._ “I can't do that, Father.”

“You're a fool, boy,” he growled disdainfully. “You're next in line for the crown, you utter imbecile. We finally have a chance. Do not ruin it, Connor.”

“I'm sorry, Father,” he apologized in a calm voice, unbuttoning the cuffs of his hands and rolling them up to his elbows silently. “I try so hard every day, but I'm unable to be as despicable as you.” He looked up with a smile. “I'll do everything I can to bring my friend back.”

“Why don't you understand, Connor?” his father snapped in rage, “He's unfit for the crown. Dominic's ideology is _wrong!_ He believes in servitude to filthy humans.”

“He believes in _peace_ , Father,” Connor enunciated with a thoughtful click of his tongue.

“Peace, my ass!” he growled like an animal, his chubby cheeks red with anger. “There can be no peace during a time like this!” He outstretched his wings and gestured around him with his hands. “Look at us! We have money, resources and power, but we're trapped like insects in these walls. We can easily win against those morons with our strength. We can regain our freedom and reputation, but the King refuses to fight.”

“He doesn't want a blood bath, Father!” Connor disputed fiercely, “Humans are people like us. We can't kill them.”

“Weaklings!” he shrieked, “Humans are weaklings, and yet, they have cornered us. We must fight back!”

Connor rubbed his forehead tiredly and huffed in disinterest. He was far too tired and mentally incapable of dealing with his father's childish temper tantrums. He turned away quietly, but his father didn't stop. “God has presented us with an opportunity. The King is sick, and the Prince has disappeared. He must choose an heir, and that will be you.” Connor rolled his eyes wearily and stomped to the doors as his father rambled on behind him, “You and me. We can restore our prestige. We can drink as much human blood as we want. We can make those weak bastards see just how powerful we—Connor! Connor, come back here!”

Connor closed the gates tightly and turned away, distantly aware of his father's outraged shouts from the other side of the door. He sighed in relief and glanced at the guard on the left who smiled at him. “Again?” he asked with a sympathetic look.

Connor sighed deeply and answered, “Yeah. Sorry about that. He'll probably take his anger out on you again.”

The guard grinned. “No problem! I can handle it.”

Connor gave him a genuine smile and marched down the spacious corridor, the thumps of his footsteps and the squeaking of his shoes on the floor echoing in the silence of the castle. He felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He had talked to the King a million times, but his terror never truly went away.

“Connor!”

Connor halted in his tracks when he heard the familiar, feminine voice from behind him. He turned around immediately with a jolly grin on his face. He was always excited to see her. “Rayna.” He nodded in greeting, looking her up and down with an arched eyebrow. She looked especially beautiful this morning, and her smell was deeply captivating. It calmed him down instantly. Her short, blonde hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and she was wearing an elegant floral top and high waisted jeans. Her pale, slender hands were wrapped around a pile of documents and a clipboard. “Damn. You look gorgeous.”

Rayna rolled her green eyes with a small smile, coming to a stop a few feet away from him. “Shut up, Connor,” she huffed, turning the pages of the file in her hand. “I'm here to talk about work. Don't try to woo me. At least give me a feather first.”

“I can smell your happiness though,” Connor told her with a small smirk, earning himself another exasperated eye-roll. They were perfect for each other, and he could smell their compatibility. He had been thinking about giving her some feathers for a while now. However, he knew it wasn't the right time for it. There were other major issues that needed to be taken care of. “What is it?”

“Here,” Rayna responded, handing him the open file with a frown on her face. He took it into his hands cautiously, glancing at her red, plump lips and dazzling earrings that glinted in the sunlight. “We have a severe blood shortage in Blood Bank C on the south side of the Village. They don't even have animal blood,” she told him solemnly, “You need to talk to the Organization. We might need more donors.”

“I will,” Connor assured calmly, skimming through the file quietly for several minutes. He quickly checked the profits with narrowed eyes, his gaze scouring through the names of different Villagers. “The Rhodes family bought 5 litres of blood this week,” he announced with a gasp. “Human blood! Why do they need 5 whole litres of blood? What are they doing with it?” He looked up in confusion. “Are they bathing in it?”

Rayna shrugged with a click of her tongue. “Mrs Rhodes gave birth to triplets last month. Infants need more blood for growing their wing–”

“Ah, right.” Connor sighed in exhaustion. “I apologize. I don't know the Villagers. It was Dan who supervised Blood Bank duties. I'm just–”

“It's fine, Connor,” Rayna heaved out a sigh, “I don't blame you. We're all stressed. It feels like a nightmare.” Her small face was suddenly filled with grief. “He really was amazing. He used to do everything on his own.”

Connor stared at the floor in silence. “Yeah.”

Rayna nodded. “Well, I have a meeting with a French businessman in a few hours. I'll see you later.”

Connor nodded and watched wordlessly as she turned around and disappeared down the corridor. He sighed heavily and turned away, walking through the corridor in silence. His head was filled with a million worries, and he took a quick shortcut through the enormous library, heading towards the top of the West Tower for some fresh air.

There were guards posted on every corner of the second floor, but it was unusually quiet. Unused, ancient torches lined the walls which were decorated with expensive tapestries and large portraits of the royal family. He quietly meandered towards the spiralling staircase on the end of the hallway which led to the West Tower. Hushed whispers and excited giggles reached his ears, and he turned another corner to face the source of the noise.

Two castle maids were standing near the staircase, talking and laughing amongst each other while they cleaned the windows. Both of them immediately stopped when they saw Connor, silently focusing back on their work in embarrassment. Connor nodded at them, and they politely nodded back. He climbed up the steps without looking back, his eyes bored and dull as he walked up the staircase.

“Who was that, Sister? I'm sorry, I can't remember.”

Connor halted in his tracks when he heard one of the maids whisper to the other from below. He peered down at them curiously to watch them wander closer to gossip in hushed murmurs. The other, older-looking maid replied, “It's alright, Amelia. You just started working here,” she consoled in a comforting voice, “That's Arthur's son. Connor.”

“Really?” Amelia's eyes widened slightly and narrowed thoughtfully. She was a frail-looking girl with short wings and long brown hair that reached her waist. There was nothing particularly exceptional about her, but she was pretty enough to grab his attention immediately.

The older maid nodded with a sad expression. “Poor boy.”

Connor raised an amused eyebrow and stared curiously. The younger maid, Amelia, looked confused. “Why is that?”

“Oh, he lost his mother two years ago,” she whispered sadly, “Now his best friend has gone missing . . .”

Connor's heart sank into the pits of his stomach, and he leaned back silently, the amused smile slipping off his face. He stayed quiet as Amelia nodded sadly, averting her eyes. “Oh, right. I forgot,” she murmured in a small voice, “Where did he disappear off to?”

“No one knows,” The older woman answered in a sorrowful voice. She bit her lip and checked left and right, finally gesturing for her partner to come closer. “Some of the village elders say that he's been arrested by Hunters,” she whispered in a scandalous voice. “He's with the Hunters. Where else could he be?”

Amelia hesitated but nodded attentively. “I agree.”

The older woman moved back with a small huff, “The castle is so silent without Prince Daniel. It used to be so loud and lively.”

Connor swallowed the lump in his throat, the urge to see his best friend growing stronger inside him. “Really? How?”

“Our Prince was a charming young man,” The older woman declared proudly, “Young girls from the village used to line up in front of the castle gates to talk to him.”

“Oh.”

The older maid gestured the other woman closer again. “There's a rumour that a particularly brave young lady climbed the castle walls to meet Dan.”

Connor frowned all of a sudden. He had always been by Dan's side, and he had never heard of a bizarre incident like that. Why would someone even climb the walls when they could fly over it perfectly? It had to be a lie spread by the village girls. The other maid, however, looked extremely impressed. “Wow.”

The older maid blushed suddenly, her cheeks turning red and an embarrassed smile on her face. “That young lady did see the Prince,” she divulged in a secretive voice, “The rumour is that she saw him swimming in the lake . . . completely naked!”

“ _What?!”_ The maids giggled loudly, and Connor stared down at them blankly. It definitely was just a stupid rumour. There was absolutely no way Dan would ever swim in a lake.

“There's more! There's more!” the older woman snickered with a red blush on her cheeks. “Apparently, the Prince has . . . he has a massive, uh, package.”

Connor almost choked on his own spit, immediately straightening up from the wall and marching up the steps awkwardly in embarrassment. Stopping to listen to their gossip was an extremely bad idea, and he chastised himself in his mind, scratching his head in frustration. He ran up the steps hastily and reached the balcony on the West Tower, heaving roughly from exertion.

The sun shined brightly above, but the air was chilly, and a calming breeze rustled his hair. He inhaled the fresh, fragrant air and relaxed his shoulders, looking out at the grassy fields around the castle. He used to come up here with Dan almost every day, and he instantly felt the void his friend had left growing bigger and bigger inside him. He balled his hands into fists and clenched his jaw tightly, his eyes fixed on the glimmering surface of the lake as he pledged to himself that he would find his friend. He would find Dan and bring him back to the castle where he belonged.


	21. Frustrating feelings

“Why can't I win?” Dan grumbled stubbornly under his breath, glaring at Anthony angrily. His lips were pouty, and his face was red with frustration. He looked cute, and Phil stared at him silently.

Anthony smirked smugly. “You don't even know the rules yet,” he explained as a matter of fact, “Why don't you learn how to play first before challenging me?”

“I didn't challenge you!” Dan countered with narrowed eyes, brushing his hair back from his forehead with his pale hand. “You're the one who begged me to play.”

“Asked, not _begged,”_ Anthony retorted with a raised eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “I asked, and you agreed.”

Phil watched the strange interaction in boredom, completely exhausted from enduring the back and forth bickering and competitiveness for hours on end. When Anthony had barged into his apartment in the afternoon, he had been slightly surprised, but he had welcomed him. At first, he had been intrigued by the reluctant conversations between Dan and Anthony. It had been interesting and funny initially, but it was almost 9 o'clock now, and he was feeling mentally drained from watching chess games all day. He wanted it to end. He wanted Anthony to leave so he could watch a movie with Dan.

“Whatever,” Dan snapped roughly, standing up from his seat and pivoting on his heel. “I'm not playing anymore. Leave!” he huffed, walking away in agitation. _Finally._

Phil's tired eyes followed him earnestly until he vanished into the hallway, drifting back to Anthony slowly. “Why are you doing this?” he asked in a sleepy, mildly interested voice, “What are you planning?”

Anthony frowned at him. “I'm not planning anything, you asshole,” he responded curtly. “I just wanted to play chess.”

Phil snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Anthony sighed heavily. “Look, now that I know about him, I feel like it's partly my responsibility to make sure it's safe,” he admitted in a guilty voice, “I'm just trying to find out who he is. What if he's a criminal?”

Phil sat up straight with surprise. “I thought you said you didn't dislike Winged–”

“I don't care that he's a Winged man!” Anthony countered determinedly, “I would do the same thing if he was a human. Anyone can be a criminal or a murderer, Phil. Dan could be a serial killer. How would you know? I don't understand how you can be so carefree. You don't know who he is.”

Phil opened his mouth to shout at Anthony, but the genuine look of concern on his face made him shut up immediately. He sighed exasperatedly. “Alright,” he responded in a defeated voice. “Do whatever you want. It's not like you're hurting him by playing chess with him. I don't mind.”

Anthony nodded. “You should be careful,” he advised in a solemn voice, “Even if it turns out that Dan's a good person, he's still a Winged man. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, but he seems attached to you, and it's not right. Just don't . . .” he hesitated slightly, “Don't touch his wings. Keep your distance.”

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“When is he leaving?” Anthony asked with a frown. “He looks alright.”

The thought of it immediately made Phil's heart sink, and he swallowed painfully. “He still can't fly properly,” he lied smoothly, “He'll stay for a few more days.” His mind immediately jumped around to find another topic to divert Anthony's attention to something else. “Hey, can you get me some syringes and needles? I don't go out much these days.”

“Syringes?” Anthony's face was filled with confusion. “Why do you need syringes?”

“Er . . . Dan needs blood. He's still really thin,” Phil disclosed in a meek voice.

“Oh.” Anthony blinked at him in surprise. “You're actually serious about helping him.”

Phil bit his lip bashfully. “Yeah.”

Anthony stared at him for a while and grinned. “Alright, I'll get you a packet of specialized syringes from the Organization.” There was a thoughtful look on his face. “I'll have to ask Rayna.”

Phil furrowed his eyebrows in curiosity. “Who's Rayna?”

“A friend.” Anthony shrugged. “She works at the Organization.”

“Oh.” Phil released a relieved breath and smiled. He was expecting to be berated for giving Dan blood, but Anthony's supportive reaction eased his tension immediately. “Thanks.”

~*~

“I'm scared,” Dan murmured in a timid voice, his eyes transfixed as he gazed at the screen. It was almost midnight, but they were still awake. Phil was glad to finally have some time alone with Dan. He didn't know why he felt so giddy and happy about it, but it was a great feeling. “Is it the dead lady from before?”

Phil smiled as he watched him, leaning back on his sofa. There was barely any light in the room, but the reflection of the screen made Dan's rich brown eyes gleam beautifully. The white light from the screen illuminated the side of his face and made his wings shimmer majestically. He looked like a living doll with his curly hair and pale skin. Phil's attention was completely focused on Dan's adorable little reactions, and he could feel his heart thump. Time was slipping by way too quickly, and he could feel himself getting more and more enthralled by Dan.

“Oh god,” Dan blurted fearfully, scooting closer to Phil. They were watching a horror movie on Netflix, and Dan was thoroughly immersed in it, breathing heavily in terror. A ghost suddenly appeared on the screen, and he let out a small scream, throwing his arms around Phil and half-hugging him. “Phil! Did you see that?” he asked with wide eyes, turning to him in excitement.

Phil blinked, and he turned back to the screen. “Er, yeah,” he lied awkwardly. What was he doing? What was happening to him? “I did.”

Dan frowned, examining his face doubtfully. “Are you okay?” he inquired worriedly.

Phil smiled nervously, slightly unsettled by the close proximity. “Y-yeah, I'm okay.”

Dan smiled back brightly. He leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on Phil's cheek, pulling back with a wide grin. “Good,” he chirped, snuggling against his side and turning his attention back to the screen.

Phil sighed deeply, and he had a sudden, inexplicable urge to card his fingers through Dan's curly hair. He bit his lip anxiously and turned away. After a moment of hesitation and many longing glances, he huffed in frustration and reached forward. He ruffled Dan's hair lightly and pulled back quickly. _So soft._

Another ghost appeared on the screen, and Dan gasped, clinging to Phil. He was hugging Phil's arm against his chest, his pale hands wrapped around Phil's bicep. Phil looked down, and he could see Dan's smooth skin under his loose T-shirt. He could see the little freckles on his pale skin, and he gulped nervously. He sighed deeply and forced himself to look away. He didn't know what was wrong with him. His gaze kept following Dan, and he couldn't stop it. His eyes wandered to places it shouldn't, and he was feeling extremely self-conscious of the problem in his pants. _Fuck._

It was all Dan's fault. Phil hadn't masturbated in a while because Dan was always clinging to him like a koala. He always followed Phil everywhere, and it was beginning to take a toll on him. Dan was a man and completely clueless. He was always touching Phil here and there, and he never left Phil alone. He was gaining more and more confidence each day, and he would kiss Phil's cheek every now and then. His oblivious touches probably meant nothing, but it was something that frustrated Phil to no end. His mind was filled with it.

Phil huffed quietly at himself and realized that he needed to stop being so close to Dan. These thoughts were creepy and strange, but he had always been a horny bastard anyway. In fact, he wouldn't be so turned on for no reason if he took care of himself every few days. He quickly made a mental note to make some time for himself tomorrow. He needed some privacy immediately.

~*~

“Phil?” The door creaked open a crack, and Phil's eyes blinked open immediately. _Dammit._ He discreetly pulled his hand away from the top of his pyjamas and sat up quickly, wondering why Dan had come into his room. He was about to get rid of his problem, but it seemed like the universe itself was against him and his poor dick.

“Dan,” Phil blinked and frowned, staring at Dan who was stood by the door, looking embarrassed and flustered. “What's wrong?”

“I-I just . . .” Dan bit his lip quietly and stared at his feet.

Phil stared at him for a second and sighed softly. Dan looked adorable and fragile, and he couldn't bring himself to tell Dan to leave. He forcefully suppressed his urges and decided to deal with it later. “Come here,” he said instead.

Dan nodded and shuffled over to him silently, large wings lowered and dragging on the floor. He stood next to Phil but said nothing. Phil reached forward and gripped his wrist gently. “Hey,” he murmured softly. “What's wrong?”

Dan stared at Phil's hand on his wrist and flushed a little bit. “Can I sleep here?” he asked shyly. “With you?”

Phil blinked repeatedly, taken aback by the unexpected admission. He was lost for words for a little while but finally nodded in surprise. “Yeah, of course,” he replied, scooting back and making space for him. “Come on.”

Dan brightened and smiled happily, proceeding to remove his clothes. Phil's eyes widened in shock, and he immediately blurted, “What–” Dan kicked his jeans away and lifted his shirt, revealing his milky white skin, a pale contrast in the darkness of the room. Phil gulped, staring at the endless stretch of exposed skin in front of him. Dan's black wings shimmered, and his pale chest, long limbs and ripe thighs were on full display. Phil's breath caught in his throat. “W-what are you doing?”

Dan looked up confusedly, standing in his boxer shorts. “I'm hot.”

Phil swallowed, and his eyes drifted down Dan's torso to the hem of his boxer shorts. His throat felt choked, and he adjusted his position on the bed. He had called Dan a prude back at the lake, but it seemed like Dan wasn't a prude after all. “Yeah,” he mumbled weakly.

Dan tilted his head in confusion. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” Phil answered quickly, his eyes wide. “N-nothing's wrong.”

Dan nodded with a frown and climbed in next to him. Phil breathed deeply, and Dan scooted closer to him, snuggling up against Phil's chest. Phil swallowed nervously, and he couldn't help but wonder if this bizarre situation was alright. It seemed like innocent behaviour, like a need for affection, and Phil didn't have the heart to deny him. He had grown fond of Dan in the past few weeks. It couldn't be right, but Phil didn't know what else to do. He stayed quiet and closed his eyes sheepishly, slightly disoriented by the presence of a warm naked body next to him.

Dan made himself as small as possible and tucked his face under Phil's chin, his eyes closed and his expression content. A moment of tense, embarrassing silence passed, and the room was quiet except for the small sound of their breathing. Phil's heart was racing for no apparent reason, and his palms felt all sweaty. It was so dark, and he couldn't think anything. He stayed completely still, avoiding looking at Dan. He felt restless and uncomfortable, and he sighed in frustration. What was wrong with him?

Dan opened his eyes sadly and asked perspectively, “Am I bothering you?”

Phil blinked in surprise and looked down at Dan to see him staring with despaired eyes at Phil's neck, avoiding his gaze. Moonlight poured in through the curtains, making patterns on the floor. Dan's face came into view clearly, and Phil bit his bottom lip. “N-no.”

“I am,” Dan whispered dismally and moved away immediately. “I'm sorry. I should–”

“No!” Phil blurted quickly, grabbing his wrist before he could move. “You're not bothering me, Dan,” he said genuinely in a barely composed tone. “I promise. You're not.”

Dan was quiet for a while, but then he mumbled, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I am,” Phil responded with a small huff. He ignored the silent thudding of his heart and tried to clear his mind.

Dan chewed on his bottom lip and nodded, lying back down. There was nothing but silence all around him, and he felt like he was holding his breath and waiting for something to happen. It thoroughly confused him. He was completely tongue-tied, and he didn't quite know why he felt so taut with anticipation. It was a normal night, and a normal routine. Dan had hugged him before, and they had slept in the same bed before. There was absolutely no reason for him to be a bundle of nerves over something so absurd.

Phil exhaled cautiously. Dan cuddled closer to him, shortening the gap between their bodies. Phil stiffened when Dan wrapped his arm around him, tucking his face back under his chin. There was a moment of complete awkward silence, and he felt something strange building and building inside him, creeping up his chest like a taunting rope.

Dan looked up, locking eyes with him. Phil tensed, and he couldn't comprehend his own reactions. Dan frowned at him, lifting his hand and placing it on his cheek. “You look pale,” he furrowed his eyebrows worriedly, “What's wrong with you?”

Phil stared at him, his mouth sealed shut and his eyes focused on Dan's delicate face. His lips refused to work, and he didn't quite know what to say. He felt unreasonably unnerved and embarrassed. His body was too rigid, and he felt hot all over for no fathomable reason. He swallowed nervously and adjusted his legs impatiently, stilling instantly when he felt his leg slip between Dan's bare thighs. _Fuck._

Dan was staring at him quietly, and Phil could feel the softness of Dan's palm on his cheek. His heartbeat was escalating, and he tried to discreetly remove his leg, keeping his expression completely neutral.

“You . . .” Dan whispered quietly, a hopeful look on his face. “Do you want to, um . . .”

Phil licked his lips unconsciously, looking up. “What?”

Dan visibly swallowed and shook his head. “Nothing.” There was an expression on his face, an expression of hesitation and slight fear. His wings were glimmering and fluttering wonderfully. It might've been his imagination, but he saw Dan glance down at his lips, and his heart skipped a beat. His eyes roamed all over Dan's face, noticing the shape of his lips and the curve of his nose.

Phil gulped anxiously, and he knew exactly what was happening. It had been a long time since he had slept with someone. He was a normal and healthy adult male, and having a naked guy in his bed was making him horny. Of course, it would make him uncomfortable. He felt extremely ashamed of himself all of a sudden. Dan was a friend, and it was slightly strange to have lewd thoughts about a friend. It was his problem, not someone else's. He shouldn't make Dan uncomfortable over something like this. What was he doing?

Phil snapped out of his thoughts guiltily to find Dan's face so close to his own that he could see the curls of his eyelashes and the little streaks of gold inside his brown eyes. He didn't know if he was imagining it due to his boner, or if Dan really was leaning in, but he knew it needed to be stopped. He frowned in confusion and pulled his leg back abruptly, placing a hand against Dan's chest and pushing him back slightly. “I think you should go back to your room,” he blurted thoughtlessly.

Dan's bright gaze lifted up from his lips to his eyes and stilled, dimming considerably. “Oh.” He blinked and his eyes widened in embarrassment. He flushed uncontrollably, his expression mortified. “I . . .” he trailed off, looking ashamed. He opened his mouth and closed it quickly, avoiding Phil's eyes completely. “Okay,” he murmured quietly and immediately pulled away.

Phil frowned in puzzlement, and there was a feeling of wrongness that he couldn't shake off. He watched quietly as Dan stood up and hurried out of the room without another word. He stared at the closed door for several confused moments, sighing restlessly. Dan was weird, and sometimes, Phil couldn't understand him at all. Why did he come to Phil's room anyway?

Phil harrumphed quietly and lay back comfortably. His body was warm to the touch, and his face was burning hot. He closed his eyes and sighed softly in relief. This was his chance.

“Finally,” he breathed deeply and slipped his hand into his pyjamas. He was painfully hard, and his cold hand felt amazing against his hot skin. He palmed himself lightly, his movements fluid and familiar to himself. He squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled deeply, slowly stroking himself to full hardness. He relaxed back properly and exhaled in complete relief. His imaginations were running wild already, and it felt amazing to touch himself after weeks. He imagined it was someone else. It was someone else's hand moving up and down his shaft.

“Ah, fuck,” he panted quietly, his little huffs and puffs filling the silence in the room. He curled in on himself and pumped his length, fantasizing about another pair of long, pale hands and wet lips. He grunted and stifled his harsh breaths, his pace increasing with every stroke. It didn't take long for him to get close to the edge. His mind was wandering restlessly, and it dropped into a vivid fantasy. He sunk his teeth into his bottom lip and stroked his dick faster and faster, trembling slightly with anticipation.

Pink lips and bright brown eyes behind curly locks of hair invaded his fantasy, and he grunted, his hands working faster and rougher. He gasped, and he couldn't help it. His mind was suddenly filled with specific pictures of pale skin and warm hands and wet lips against his cheek. _Dan._

Phil shuddered and finally came with a quiet groan, panting harshly as he spilt cum between his fingers. His movements slowed down gradually, and he panted, moving his dirty hand away from the bed. He turned on his side and breathed heavily, staring with wide eyes at his hand. “Oh, fuck,” he sighed deeply, closing his eyes in shame. “What am I doing?”

Phil huffed and stood up, walking to his bathroom. He quickly cleaned himself and washed his face repeatedly in the sink, hurrying back and dropping to his bed. His mind was turning and turning uneasily, and for the first time, he admitted to himself that he found Dan to be extremely attractive.

It was the first time he had jerked off to the thoughts of a friend, but he was able to acknowledge that it was purely physical. He cared for Dan as a friend, but one had to be completely blind to not notice how beautiful Dan was. He was nothing short of an angel. His wild curls, lithe figure and shimmery wings captivated Phil. His soft palm was on Phil's cheek and his endless pale skin was just out of his reach. It wasn't his fault.

Of course, it would be too much for any normal human being. It didn't have to mean anything in particular. Besides, it had been a regrettably long time since he had slept with someone. It had been a long time since he had touched someone's naked skin. In the heat of the moment, he had accidentally thought of Dan. So what? Dan was a fully grown adult, and an attractive male. Phil had every right to fantasize about anyone he wanted.

He sighed exasperatedly and rolled around on his bed, kicking the pillows to the floor in frustration. Something felt weirdly off; something was wrong. He huffed and closed his eyes, determined to forget about what he had done. He scratched his head and decided to go to sleep. After all, it was silly of him to worry about something that didn't mean anything.

~*~

Phil couldn't sleep in the end. He had tossed and turned on his bed in agitation, but he couldn't feel at ease. Dan's naked torso had kept popping into his mind, and in a moment of frustration and hastiness, he had picked up his phone and dialled a familiar number. His call had been received by the person on the other end, and he had made an irascible decision. He had pulled on his old, faded jeans and quietly slipped out in the middle of the night, making sure not to wake Dan.

Phil used to follow orders and stay indoors at night, but he was no longer afraid of Winged men. Even Anthony admitted that Winged men were good people. He wasn't afraid anymore. People were advised to stay inside after 6 o'clock, but there were always exceptions when it came to emergencies. Phil had decided to use that to his advantage, and he had made up a lie in his head before stepping out into the empty street.

“Why don't you stay here tonight?”

Phil looked up, meeting Luke's eyes with a frown. He shook his head steadily, straightening up and heading to the door. He stepped out into the corridor and turned to face Luke. “I should go,” he sighed quietly. “Thanks, er, for tonight.”

“It was enjoyable for both of us,” Luke shrugged casually with a smile, standing near the door in his underwear. He had a doubtful expression on his face, and he was staring at Phil strangely. “It's rare for you to contact me.” He narrowed his eyes, and Phil tensed. “Did something happen?”

Phil chewed on his bottom lip and sighed softly. He had forgotten how observant Luke was. He had met Luke a few years back at a pub, and the two of them had hit it off very well right off the bat. They had exchanged numbers, and they swiftly eased into a wonderful arrangement. Luke was always good at comforting him, and Phil would occasionally sleep with him when he felt especially lonely. It benefitted both of them equally.

“No,” he answered finally, relaxing his shoulders. He was no longer frustrated. He felt relieved and calm. All of his worries had melted away, and Phil realized how important good sex was. He smiled genuinely and mentally patted himself on the back for making such a smart decision. “It's nothing.”

Luke frowned and cluck his tongue. “That's a lie,” he addressed with a raised eyebrow. “You snuck out in the middle of the night and risked your life for sex?”

“Good sex,” Phil clarified flirtatiously and huffed. “I've been very stressed lately, okay? I needed this.”

“You couldn't wait until the morning?” Luke raised another question.

Phil rolled his eyes and shrugged. “No,” he responded thoughtfully, “I was feeling restless. I couldn't sleep.”

“Hmm,” Luke hummed contemplatively, staring at him strangely. “Okay. I don't believe you, but okay.”

Phil rolled his eyes but nodded. “I'll see you later?”

Luke's expression quickly changed into concern. “Are you sure you want to leave right now?” he asked worriedly. “You could sleep here tonight and leave in the morning. It's risky, Phil. Stay.”

“No.” Phil shook his head. “I'll be fine.”

“What if you run into Hunters?” Luke grumbled with a huff.

“I won't,” Phil confirmed with confidence.

Luke frowned. “How do you know that? It's better to just–”

Phil sighed and whirled around, walking down the corridor without looking back. “Bye, Luke.”

“Phil, come on!” Luke called after him with a groan.

Phil didn't look back. He lifted his hand and waved dismissively, walking down the stairs and out into the barren street. The cold breeze immediately made him shiver, and he exhaled softly, rubbing his sides uneasily. The street was as empty as always, and the dirty concrete footpath was illuminated by the yellowish streetlights. Phil huffed at himself and hurried down the street swiftly.

“Ugh,” he grumbled, tripping over a small plant growing on the side of the road. His footsteps echoed, and he looked left and right silently. There was absolutely no sign of anyone in his immediate vicinity, and he sighed softly, feeling strangely out of place in the darkness. He sighed quietly and crossed the road, entering the familiar alley which opened on the other side to his own street. The wind blew his hair into his eyes, and he brushed it back absently. He inhaled softly and lifted his gaze, halting immediately in shock.

“Dan?”


	22. Something's wrong

“Dan,” Phil uttered in stupefaction, staring straight ahead at Dan who was standing on the other end of the narrow alleyway with an indistinguishable expression on his face. “What are you doing here?”  


Dan stared back at him doubtfully. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, and his eyes were suspecting Phil for some reason. “I woke up, and I didn't see you anywhere,” he answered quietly in a strangely perturbed voice, “I was worried.”

“Oh.” Phil pursed his lips guiltily.

Dan narrowed his eyes dubiously. “Where did you go?”

“I just went to see a friend, Dan,” Phil lied smoothly and sighed with a small, relieved smile. He walked up to Dan casually, standing in front of him with a huff. “You should've gone back to sleep. You didn't have to come looking for me,” he quipped exasperatedly in an affectionate voice, extending his hand absently to ruffle Dan's soft hair. “Let's go back before Hunters or someone else finds–”

Dan crinkled his nose immediately, and his jaw clenched for some odd reason. Without any warning at all, he slapped Phil's hand away automatically, stepping back with an irritated frown on his face. “Don't touch me,” he snapped and immediately backed away.

Phil blinked in surprise, and his hand stilled in the air for a split second before dropping in complete confusion. “What's wrong?” He raised a baffled eyebrow, raising his hand and reaching out again in befuddlement. Dan's expression changed, and his wings fluttered restlessly for a few seconds before turning sharp. “Dan?”

Dan moved away from him completely, putting considerable distance between them. Phil's eyes widened in alarm, and he stared in complete bewilderment. His heart sank instantly to the deep pits of his stomach, and for a second, he felt absolutely devastated and crushed. Why? Why was Dan doing that? Normally, Dan would blush in embarrassment, or his wings would flutter, but he had never acted like this before. His eyes were always kind and happy when he looked at Phil, but at that moment, they were cold and distant.

“Dan, why are you acting like that?” he repeated fearfully, feeling helpless. Something was extremely wrong. He could tell, but he didn't know what. “What's wrong?”

Dan averted his eyes, and he looked upset. “Just don't touch me.”

Phil's heart throbbed with pain. Dan had become an irreplaceable part of Phil's life, and not being able to be near Dan was something he couldn't tolerate . . . _at all._ Being close to him and touching him was something habitual, and not being able to do it was unbearable. It was in that moment that Phil truly realised just how much Dan had come to mean to him. “Why?” he asked in shock. “What happened? What's wrong?”

“I smell someone else on you,” Dan disclosed with a strange expression on his face, looking annoyed and angry. “Someone's cologne . . . shampoo . . . sweat . . . and . . .” He stared at the ground with a sorrowful gaze. “I don't want you to come near me.”

Phil gaped at Dan with wide, stunned eyes, and there was a strange feeling of guilt settling itself at the bottom of his stomach like a heavy stone. Dan glanced at him angrily and turned around. “You lied,” he whispered quietly, walking in the direction of their apartment. “I don't like liars.”

Phil's throat closed up tightly, and a huge sense of remorse befell him. He had an inexplicable feeling that he had done something wrong, fucked something up, but he didn't quite understand it. A small fear sprang up from inside him, and he launched forward before he could think, grasping Dan's wrist. “Dan, wait!” he blurted hastily. “What does that–”

“Don't touch me!” Dan shouted aggressively, breathing heavily. His eyes turned red with anger, and his wings rose threateningly. He pulled his hand away briskly and stumbled back, glaring at Phil with wide brown eyes and a sour expression.

Phil's heart sank again, and he didn't know what to do. Did Dan hate him now? Did he _hate_ Phil? Phil's chest ached at the thought, and he stared at Dan remorsefully with panic rising from his throat. “But I just want to–” He stopped and swallowed painfully. What was wrong with him? He felt like he couldn't breathe. “What did I do? What did I do to make you this upset? Are you . . .” Why did he feel so guilty? It didn't make sense. “Are you angry with me?”

Dan's face was unusually blank, and he wasn't his normal cheerful self. He wasn't smiling, and his brown eyes were unbelievably dull. He didn't look like the Dan Phil knew. Phil swallowed nervously, waiting for an answer, but it didn't come. Dan turned around and stalked towards the direction of Phil's apartment. “Let's go back,” he mumbled quietly instead, but it wasn't enough. Phil wanted a proper explanation.

Phil chewed on his bottom lip. “Dan,” he called desperately, following him. “Why are you angry?” Dan walked faster, putting distance between them. “Did I do something? What did I do? What's wrong? Tell me.”

“I already told you,” Dan stated in a small voice, “You smell like someone else. I don't want you to touch me.” He stopped and hesitated. “Don't touch my wings for a while. It'll hurt you.”

“Why? What did I do?” Phil asked hurriedly, repeating the same question. “What can I do to make it better? I'm sorry.” Why was he so desperate?

“Get rid of the smell,” Dan whispered in a vulnerable voice, staring at the ground. “It's disgusting.”

“How?”

Dan stared back at him like he was an idiot. “Shower.” He averted his eyes glumly. “Don't touch me until then. It's upsetting me.”

“Oh.” Phil blinked, and he felt like the air had returned to his lungs. He didn't quite know what he would've done if Dan had told him not to touch him ever again. He couldn't take it. He had become used to it. He enjoyed it. He liked being close to Dan. He inhaled deeply and sighed in absolute relief, giving Dan a smile. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Okay, I understand. I'm sorry.”

Dan nodded weakly and turned away from him. Phil sighed in relief and lifted his gaze, stepping forward optimistically. He needed to get home quickly and take a shower as soon as possible. He increased his pace in determination and walked faster and faster, his mind focused on getting back to his bathroom immediately.

The night was quiet, and they stayed away from the streetlights, silently making their way through the dark. Phil felt a bit uneasy for no apparent reason, and he checked his vicinity with narrowed eyes. He knew that they had fortunately escaped from trouble every time, again and again. His life with Dan until now had been, luckily enough, pleasant and stress-free, devoid of any sort of major hassle. Aside from minor inconveniences, they hadn't actually run into an authentic predicament. It made him a little too naive. His guard was completely down, and his mind was full of absent thoughts as he followed Dan blindly.

Dan swerved around the corner of the sidewalk, and Phil lifted his gaze quietly, nonchalantly, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw what was in front of him. Shocked by the unexpected encounter, he froze and let out a frightened gasp, snatching the attention of all three winged people standing in front of him. His heart instantly leapt to his throat, and his messy thoughts were swept to the back of his mind. He stilled, and his eyes snapped to Dan in terror to see him glaring at the men in front of him.

“Well . . .” The winged man in front of Dan said with a wide, gleeful smirk. He was partially bald, and he had a scar on his right cheek. He looked dangerous and full of anger. “Isn't this a wonderful surprise?”

Phil frowned doubtfully and instinctively stepped back. There were two winged men and a winged woman in front of him, their giant wings hanging behind their backs. The men were short but muscular, staring at Dan with a joyful gleam in their eyes. The woman let out a quiet gasp when she noticed Dan, her eyes widening as she clamped a hand on her mouth. She was beautiful with long brown hair and short, shiny wings. She wore a shocked look on her face.

“Tony, look. It's our little homeless Dan.” The guy with the scar snarled with a smirk, and Dan stiffened immediately, clenching his hands into fists.

Phil noticed his troubled expression and backed away cautiously. He didn't quite know what was going on, but he could feel Dan's anger. “Dan, we should . . .” He stopped and gulped in fear.

“Who is that next to you? A Winged man without wings?” The other guy, Tony, drawled, furrowing his eyebrows at Phil. He sniffed the air. “He smells like a human.” He grinned widely.

Phil swallowed soundlessly, his eyes wide. In hindsight, Phil felt like he had misunderstood winged men _again._ He acted way too hasty and careless. Bad people existed in every society. How could he ever overlook that? How did he make such a huge, irreparable mistake?

Tony smirked widely. “A prey?” he grinned, displaying his canine teeth to Phil. A fearful chill ran down Phil's spine, and he stared with his mouth agape. Tony narrowed his eyes in fury. “Or a friend?”

Dan glared at Tony, his jaw clenched tightly. His wings burst out suddenly from both sides, outstretched to their full capacity. Phil's eyes widened, and he stumbled back to avoid the impact. Dan breathed heavily and stepped forward to stand in front of Phil, blocking him from their sight.

Tony raised a curious eyebrow. “A friend then.”

“Guys . . .” The brown-haired woman whispered quietly. “Do you know him?”

Tony shook his head with a smirk. “Nah, he's just another pathetic Winged man who sympathises with humans,” he laughed, “It seems like we run into each other a lot, right, Oscar? It's destiny!”

The guy with the scar nodded with a smirk. “Yeah.” Both of them laughed.

The woman glanced at Dan nervously, “Let's just go,” she urged with a desperate look on her face, “We're being chased by Hunters.”

Tony smirked, and his eyes turned bright, deadly red. “Stay back, Amelia. We need to show this guy what it really means to be a Winged man.”

Phil's heart jumped to his throat, and he regretted stepping out at night instantly. He was naive and ignorant, and if Dan got hurt, it would be entirely his fault. He swallowed painfully, and he was scared stiff. He glanced around hastily, his eyes searching desperately for an escape. The wheels of his brain turned and turned. His apartment was near. If he could somehow manage to push them back, he was sure that they could make a run for it. It was risky, but it wasn't entirely impossible. They wouldn't follow him, would they?

“Dan,” he whispered as quietly as he could, “We should run. Come on.”

Dan stiffened immediately, but his glare didn't waver. “We can't,” he murmured back. “I . . . I'll deal with them. You should go. You should run.”

“What? No!” Phil hissed helplessly. “I'm not leaving without you, Dan.”

Dan glanced at him with a strange look on his face. “Why?” He looked confused. “You don't care about me.”

Phil furrowed his eyebrows, equally confused. “What's that supposed to mean? We should both run to–”

“Do you think you can outrun me, human?” The guy next to Tony, Oscar, laughed gleefully, his eyes glimmering with excitement. “Well, let's see it then,” he growled, glancing back at his partner. “Tony!”

The next few seconds went by in a blur, and everything happened too fast for his brain to process. Phil's gaze snapped to Tony in a hurry, and before he could say anything or act in any way, Tony launched forward and grabbed the collar of Dan's T-shirt. Phil's eyes widened, and his hands shot out to grasp Dan. “Dan!”

“Let me go!” Dan cried out, kicking Tony's leg.

“Son of a bitch!” Tony snarled and pulled Dan back. He lifted his hand, and his closed fist connected with Dan's cheek.

Phil's jaw dropped open in shock. “Dan!” he shouted, ready to physically fight them to save Dan. His heart pounded, and the cold air made him shiver. He was trembling with rage, and he glared at Tony. “Let him go!” he yelled and launched forward in fury. “Let him go, you fucking piece of–”

“Wait for a second, Hero,” a voice said from behind him and grabbed his shirt collar, hurling him back powerfully. Phil's heart sank into the bottom of his stomach, and he gaped as Tony slapped Dan across the face, slamming his head against the wall and punching him in the stomach.

“Dan!” he shouted with wide, startled eyes. What was going on? What was happening? Everything occured too fast, and his head was all messed up from the shock of it.

“Ew, I really don't want to touch you but–” Phil stilled, and his gaze snapped back to the man near him, holding him back from helping Dan. “You deserve it.”

“What the–” He gasped, feeling something hard and pointy striking against his stomach. He wheezed in pain and dropped to his knees immediately. Another hard strike against his cheek, and he felt the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. This was the inhuman power of winged men. He had heard of a winged man's physical agility and strength, but it was then that he truly realised the true extent of it. He panted roughly and lifted his shaky hand to hit, strike or do _anything_ to fight back . . . but his vision was swimming. The winged man grabbed his hair, slamming him against the concrete floor and letting out a small laugh.

Pain spread through his body like wildfire, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Everything was burning and breaking, and he wanted to lift his head and look at Dan, check if he was alright, but he felt helpless and numb. He couldn't feel his body, and he collapsed to the floor with a loud groan, enduring the repeated blows to his stomach. “What the fuck do you want?” he managed to choke out, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth. “S-stop . . .”

The guy looked down at him in disgust, glaring at him in rage. “Know your place, filth,” he spat, “It's because of you that we're all so miserable. You should suffer like we've suffered.” Another kick, and Phil wheezed, spitting out blood onto the pavement. “Humans should all die!”

“Phil!” he heard Dan scream distantly, but his mind was somewhere else, far away and in a daze. He gasped quietly, and his eyes automatically fell shut. His entire body ached, and there was a numbness in his stomach. “Let him go!” Dan was shouting, and he sounded like he was struggling. “Don't hurt him!”

There was a harsh fluttering sound, and then a piercing noise of knives slicing through the air reached his ears. Panic spread through his chest, and he managed to barely open his eyes to look. He saw Dan struggling out of Tony's grip and kicking him back, his feathers sharp as they pierced through Tony's flesh. Something moved in the periphery of his vision, and his gaze slid back to the man next to him, glaring down at him with hatred in his eyes. His wings were fully lifted and it shined like metal in the moonlight. He clenched his jaw and sharp feathers shot out towards him, slipping past Phil, slicing his cheekbone.

“Phil!” Dan shouted with wide eyes, his voice beyond terrified as he rushed to his side, spreading his wings in front of Phil protectively.

Phil wanted to say something, but his throat felt too scratchy and tight. He was completely immobile on the pavement and everything hurt. He tried to sit up, lifting himself painfully. He planted his hands on the floor and heaved himself upright, collapsing against the wall, his breaths coming out in loud pants.

“Move!” Oscar shouted at Dan. “It's been a while since I've seen a human.”

“No!” Dan screamed, panting harshly. Phil clutched his injured sides and managed to breathe slowly. “Leave!”

“Hunters!” Phil's eyes snapped up to meet the winged woman's eyes. He had forgotten she was there. She had been standing in the corner, watching everything unfold silently. “Hunters! They're coming!” she yelled again in panic, grabbing the attention of the man in front of her.

“What?” The winged man grunted, turning his head to look at her. Dan used that opportunity and raised his clenched fist, placing a hard punch against the man's neck. The man let out a gasp of pain and stumbled back into the arms of the woman. It happened in a split second. Her skinny arms came around to wrap around him, holding him down in fury. “What the–” he screamed, “What the fuck, Amelia?”

“Go!” she screamed at Dan. “Leave, Dan!”

Dan whirled around without a second thought and stalked towards Phil, grabbing him up with a strength Phil never thought he had. Phil's mouth opened in shock, and before he could think about what was happening, he was being lifted into the air. There was a harsh swishing sound, and his hair whipped wildly back and forth in the air. The wind tore at his clothes and teared up his eyes. He squeezed it shut and breathed heavily, his whole body aching horribly.

There were noises from the ground, loud bangs and screaming noises filled the night. Phil's mind couldn't focus on anything. His consciousness was slipping, and he wanted to let go.

“I'm glad you're okay,” he managed to murmur weakly before finally passing out against Dan's shoulder.

  



	23. I don't understand you

“Phil!”

Phil groaned lightly, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. His body simmered everywhere, as if he were standing in the middle of a burning house. He could feel someone's presence hovering above him, calling his name repeatedly, but he was far too tired to open his drowsy eyes. His body was bound by lethargy, and all he wanted was to fall back asleep.

“Phil,” There it was again. Phil let out a distressed noise. “Phil!”

Phil huffed in frustration and there was a small confused moment where he couldn't quite remember where he was or what he was doing there. His brain was half-asleep and in a dream-like state. It was possible that the voice was also a little part of his dream, but the dreamy haziness didn't last long. Awareness slowly crept in. Soon, realisation rushed to the forefront of his mind, and he blinked his eyes open with a gasp.

“Dan,” he choked out, staring at Dan's teary eyes and distraught face with his mouth agape. He blinked repeatedly and looked around with wide, startled eyes, his shoulders stiff and alert, expecting danger. His eyes swept across the room hastily and took in his familiar surroundings slowly. He was back in his bedroom, lying on his plush bed. His head was resting against a pillow, and Dan looked unhurt and well. “You're okay?” Dan nodded reassuringly, and Phil immediately let out a relieved breath, relaxing his shoulders and swallowing his fear. Everything was okay. They were both okay.

Dan stared at him with huge, worried brown eyes, his face contorted in a pained expression. Phil frowned skittishly and looked down at himself, noticing the many different scratches and cuts on both of his arms. He grimaced and scooted back, placing the pillow against the headboard and cautiously sitting up with a scowl on his face. A twinge of intolerable pain shot through his stomach and rose upwards, making him let out a pained noise. “Ow,” he panted quietly, falling back against the pillows behind his back.

Dan fidgeted with his sleeves next to him, staring at him with wide eyes. “Phil . . . ” he whispered in a perturbed voice.

The winged men who had attacked them had superhuman strength, and Phil was still in awe of their power. “What happened? Did they follow us?” he asked confusedly.

Dan shook his head in denial, and Phil exhaled in relief. He pressed his sides with his fingers to inspect the damage and flinched quietly. His body was sore, but the pain wasn't unbearable. He sighed heavily and looked up at Dan with an exasperated look on his face. “I'll be okay,” he announced truthfully. “I'm just glad we're both safe.”

Phil had hoped to soothe Dan's worries, but his words seemed to have the exact opposite effect. Dan's eyes filled with intense concern instantly, and his wings shrivelled up behind his back. His pale hands reached out to touch but halted hesitantly in mid-air. He bit his lip with a reluctant look on his face, and his hands dropped sadly. His lips curled down, and he stared at Phil with worried eyes. Phil arched an eyebrow, completely bewildered. “What's wrong?” he asked and smiled. “I'm okay, Dan.”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip, and his eyes were frantic. His wings hung limply, shrivelling up even more. Phil huffed. “What?”

Dan fumbled with his sleeves restlessly. “Can I . . . can I hug you?” he asked in a small, timid voice.

“Of course. Why are you suddenly ask–” Phil was cut off abruptly by Dan tackling him into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around Phil's neck and he squeezed Phil tightly, breathing deeply in distress. It was so sudden and unexpected that Phil jerked back due to the impact. He blinked in utter surprise and placed a hand on Dan's back, patting him. “Dan?” he whispered softly, “Are you alright?”

Dan was quiet for many silent moments, and Phil kept his mouth shut, waiting patiently. The room was dark, and it looked like Dan hadn't bothered to turn on the lights. “I'm fine, Dan,” he repeated gently.

“I'm sorry,” Dan whispered and hid his face in Phil's shoulder, squeezing him. “You got hurt because of me.” He sounded guilty and defeated. “I shouldn't have followed you. I'm sorry.”

Phil frowned. “No.” He pulled back slowly and looked at Dan. Dan didn't meet his eyes. He stared down at his hands with tearful eyes, sniffing quietly. “It wasn't your fault, Dan. You saved me,” he told Dan truthfully. “You carried me back. You helped me. It wasn't your fault.”

Dan bit his lip wordlessly, avoiding Phil's eyes with a strange look on his face. He shifted away from Phil and leaned forward to grab the first-aid box from the bedside drawer. Phil watched his movements in silence, staring at Dan's shaky fingers and nervous demeanour. He appeared to be quite shaken up, and Phil's heart sank, an odd but strong emotion clutching his chest. He reached out absently and placed his hand on Dan's shoulder, staring at him with knowing eyes. “Dan,” he mumbled, “Are you shaking?”

Dan stilled and his eyes widened. “No . . .” He swallowed nervously. “I thought you–” He stopped and stiffened, looking away. He fidgeted anxiously to open the first aid-box and revealed, “It's nothing. I was just worried about Hunters.”

Phil's heart was aching, and he couldn't look away from Dan's delicate face. He ignored the pain in his body and leaned forward abruptly, pulling Dan into another hug. Dan blinked in confusion and stayed still, going rigid against him. Phil's heart thudded, and he wrapped his arms around Dan as tightly as he could. He felt a strange emotion whirl inside him, slowly but surely creeping through his veins and into his armoured heart. “Can we stay like this for a while?” he asked quietly.

Dan was still, and he didn't respond for a few minutes. “Okay,” he answered finally, making Phil sigh in relief. He closed his eyes, sitting there in silence, his arms around Dan's soft body. He inhaled Dan's calming scent and felt Dan's warmth against his chest. His fingers brushed lightly against Dan's wings, and he felt better instantly.

Dan's curls tickled the side of his face, and he felt the smooth, bare skin of Dan's pale shoulder against his lips. He swallowed and snapped out of his thoughts. There was a desperate, miserable emotion in his heart that he couldn't ignore. He felt it all throughout his body. Dan was here, right next to him. He was here, but for how long? The question bothered him until he couldn't bear to think about it anymore.

“Does this bother you?” he questioned softly, shoving his unwanted thoughts to the back of his mind.

“What?” Dan murmured against his shoulder, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You said that I smell like someone else,” he responded, “Is it bothering you?”

Dan stiffened immediately but nodded sincerely. “A little.”

“Why?”

Dan went rigid in his arms, but he didn't reply. Minutes slipped by in absolute silence, and Phil realised he wasn't going to receive an answer. His ribs were in pain, and he knew he should pull away, but he didn't want to. There shouldn't be this much emotion-charged physical contact between platonic partners, but he couldn't let go of Dan. He couldn't move back. He was thinking about it, but his body wasn't listening to him. He gulped nervously and ultimately concluded that it was just the result of a harrowing experience. After such a violent confrontation with winged men, both of them were exhausted, both mentally and physically. This was merely a way to provide emotional support to one another.

“I'm sorry,” Phil whispered tenderly against Dan's shoulder.

Dan was silent for a while. “For what?”

“It was my fault,” he admitted sincerely. “I shouldn't have gone out at night.” He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling Dan's familiar, earthy smell. His heart pounded, and he bit his lip hard, opening his eyes reluctantly. “It was stupid of me.”

“I was the one who followed you,” Dan countered silently. “They attacked you because of me.”

Phil sighed quietly. “It was still my fault. I shouldn't have gone out at all,” he mumbled in a depressed voice. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

“No,” Dan answered silently, “I was, but my injures healed already.”

“Okay. Good,” Phil whispered in relief with a small smile on his face. Dan was getting better and better every day.

Phil pulled back finally with a small huff, meeting Dan's vivid brown eyes. Their faces were too close, and the room was shrouded by a peaceful, dark atmosphere. Phil couldn't make out Dan's expression, but the moment felt a little too fragile. His heart involuntarily skipped a beat. He knew somewhere in his heart that he should move back, but Dan was looking at him with a sad gaze, and he could do nothing but stare back in silence. “What's wrong?” Phil murmured carefully.

Dan's brown eyes were filled with concern, and he leaned forward wordlessly. Phil blinked incredulously, and his eyes widened when Dan placed his warm hands on his cheeks, cupping his face so gently that Phil forgot to breathe. For a single second, he felt utterly vulnerable. “Does it hurt?” Dan asked worriedly.

Phil swallowed nervously, and his heart was pounding. Dan's face was too close, and his soft palms were pressed against his cheeks. His eyes, full of tenderness, were staring at Phil unwaveringly, and he gulped anxiously. What was happening to him? He felt dizzy. “What?” he managed to ask.

Dan's thumb slipped down to swipe across Phil's bottom lip, startling Phil. His heart flipped, and his eyes were unbelievably wide. He wondered what Dan was doing. Was he trying to . . . Phil gulped.

Dan pressed his thumb lightly against the corner of his lips, and Phil snapped out of his trance-like state immediately. He flinched back in pain, letting out a small yelping noise. “Ow.”

“You're covered in bruises,” Dan said sadly, his gaze focused on the small cut near the corner of Phil's mouth. “I'm sorry.” _Oh._

“Er . . . yeah,” Phil admitted, taking a deep breath and slowly composing himself. “It's . . . okay. It'll go away.”

Dan nodded and pulled away. Phil let out a breath. He felt like he could finally breathe properly. He pursed his lips tightly and watched Dan open the first-aid box. There was an awkwardness in the air between them that never used to be present before. Something had changed drastically, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He frowned but remained quiet, staring at Dan.

Dan wouldn't meet his eyes, and his entire body was tense. He was quiet as he inspected Phil's injuries. Dan was unusually silent as he cleaned Phil's wounds and neatly put the bandaids on his fingers. He inspected Phil's face cautiously and frowned, glancing back into the box. His long, pale fingers hovered over the different medicinal ointments Phil stored in the box. Phil had bought a lot of medications in case Dan showed up with bruises, but he never thought he would need it himself. Their roles had reversed.

Dan furrowed his eyebrows suddenly, biting his lips thoughtfully. Phil watched quietly, his gaze wandering down Dan's face and noticing his whole posture. He was sitting elegantly with his back straight, his lean limbs crossed gracefully. The box was on his lap, and Phil's eyes followed his every movement. Dan grabbed the appropriate ointment and uncapped it, scooping a bit with his finger.

“Why didn't you leave?” Dan asked abruptly, turning his gaze towards Phil.

Phil blinked and looked away hastily. “What do you mean?” Why was he paying so much close attention to everything Dan was doing? He was wounded. He should be in pain, but he was aroused instead. He felt like he was going insane.

Dan shifted closer quietly and leaned in so close that Phil could feel his breaths on his face. He was sweating for some reason, and his heart was beating fast and hard. He swallowed awkwardly, and Dan glanced at his lips, silently applying the ointment on his bottom lip.

“Why didn't you leave when I told you to?” he asked with a frown, gently swiping his finger across Phil's injured lip. Phil swallowed, and he couldn't help but watch Dan's beautiful face closely. His eyes wandered all over Dan's face, from his dark eyelashes and cute nose to his long neck and pale shoulders.

Phil felt a weird sensation in the bottom of his stomach, a feeling that something about this situation wasn't right. There was something too intimate about the way Dan was looking at him, brown eyes full of concern and affection. It felt like something secretive, something deeply personal and special. The moment was small but it felt like something that would become unforgettable one day. “Why would I leave without you?” he retorted softly.

Dan pulled his hand away abruptly and moved back, blinking at Phil in surprise. Usually, Dan would grin or blush, and his wings would flutter. Phil was eagerly expecting a smile, but there was no expression on Dan's face. He just stared at Phil emotionlessly and turned away quietly. His wings didn't move. They were still. Phil frowned in utter confusion. “Dan,” he inquired, “Is everything alright? Are you still upset? Are you mad at me?”

Dan stiffened up immediately, and he stared at the floor in silence for numerous tense moments. His hands clenched around the small box on his lap, and he avoided Phil's gaze. “I just don't understand why you're being nice to me.” There was sadness in his tone, and Phil frowned in puzzlement. “I . . . I don't mean anything to you, do I?”

Phil blinked in bafflement, and his eyes widened slightly. “What's that supposed to mean?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.

“I just . . .” Dan bit his lip vulnerably and swallowed. “I don't understand you,” he told Phil with a helpless look on his face, his eyes almost teary. “You won't accept my feather, but you touched my wings. You said you didn't have a mate, but . . . but . . . last night–” He stopped and sniffed. “You confuse me,” he mumbled in a weak voice. “Do you . . . um, do you like me or not? I don't understand.”

Phil furrowed his eyebrows in perplexity. Dan's voice was too quiet, and he couldn't understand his mumbled words. “What are you talking about?” he questioned confusedly, “Of course I like you. Why wouldn't I like you?” Phil leaned forward and grasped Dan's hand tightly. “I care about you. We're friends, aren't we?”

Dan flinched back, and Phil furrowed his eyebrows in befuddlement. Dan's behaviour was extremely odd, and he was acting unlike himself. There were no explanations for the sudden changes in his behaviour, and Phil felt thoroughly disoriented. “Dan,” he assured in concern. “I do like you.”

Dan pulled his hands away abruptly and stood up wordlessly. He placed the box haphazardly on the bedside table and turned his back on Phil. “I–I feel sleepy,” he explained, “Good night.”

“Wait–”

Dan didn't look back. He hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him. Phil frowned in confusion and leaned back, staring at the closed door and already missing Dan's presence. He wondered what he had done to upset Dan, but he was far too tired to actively think about it. His body ached from all the punches he had endured, and his eyelids were already falling shut. He sighed and lay down quietly, closing his eyes with an exasperated huff. He fell asleep in mere minutes, and the last person he thought of was Dan.

~*~

“Dan.” Anthony turned to him with a grim expression on his face. “Do you want to play chess?”

Phil frowned and narrowed his eyes doubtfully, sitting back on his bed. It was early afternoon, and he was still too tired to move. The skin of his stomach had turned a mild shade of purple, and on Dan's insistence, Phil had stayed in his bed all morning. There was no one to make them food, and as a last resort, Phil had called Anthony and relayed all that had happened the previous day. Anthony had been sceptical and angry. He had expressed his doubts and stared at Phil's wounds with raised eyebrows, but he had made them food without protest.

“Okay,” Dan answered silently, staring at his feet. Phil glanced at him and sighed exasperatedly. Dan was quieter than usual, and he refused to come near Phil. He stayed by Phil's side, but there was an odd tension between them that didn't exist before. He was taking care of Phil, but he wouldn't meet Phil's eyes. He wasn't talking or prancing around like he did every day, but he had angrily urged Phil to stay in his bed until his wounds healed. He didn't look angry, but he was upset.

Anthony nodded. “Why don't you arrange the pieces and wait for us in the living room?”

Dan shook his head and looked at Phil dubiously. “Phil can't come to the living room,” he insisted stubbornly, “He's injured.”

“Oh, for fuck's sake!” Anthony huffed with a roll of his eyes. “He's not dead. He can walk to the living room!”

Dan glared at Anthony. “He's injured!”

“Fine. I'll carry him to the living room, okay?” Anthony snapped, “Can you just leave us alone for two minutes? I want to talk to him.”

Dan clenched his jaw. “I'm not an idiot. You don't have to trick me with chess,” he retorted with a frown. “You can just tell me that you want to talk, and I'll leave.”

Anthony blinked, and Phil suppressed a small smile. “Look . . .” Anthony sighed in resignation. “I do want to play chess. I wasn't trying to trick you.”

Dan stood up abruptly and glared at Anthony. “I don't want to play chess anymore,” he snapped angrily, “Stupid human!” He stomped towards the door without another word, walking out in fury and slamming the door shut.

Anthony frowned in confusion, eyeing the closed door with disapproval. “What's wrong with him?”

Phil rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I don't know,” he mumbled with a small, sad sigh. “He's just . . . he's angry, I think.”

Anthony turned back and stared at him incredulously. “Why?”

Phil shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea. He said I smell like someone else or something like that.”

“Hmm.” Anthony furrowed his eyebrows in thought. “Weird.”

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Phil sighed softly. “Don't tell me you suspect Dan.”

Anthony squinted his eyes contemplatively. “Not really,” he denied, “Are you sure Dan had nothing to do with it? Some random winged men just showed up and started to punch you for no reason?”

Phil nodded. “Yeah, Dan didn't even seem to know them,” he lied smoothly to avoid further curious questions and a million speculations. “They said that we humans should all die.”

Anthony snorted. “Prejudice. It's never going to end.” Anthony's gaze turned sharp, “But I just don't understand why you would step out at night. You know how it is.”

“I already told you,” Phil implored with a groan. “I went to see Luke, and Dan followed me. We got attacked, and Dan saved me.”

“Why the fuck would you go see Luke in the middle of the night?” He glanced at Phil knowingly and shook his head. “You risked your life for what? Sex?”

Phil sighed deeply. “I'm sorry, alright? It won't happen again.”

“Phil, you need to be extra careful,” Anthony explained cautiously. “You're sheltering a winged man in your home. Do you think people are blind?” he accused in a disappointed tone, “Someone could've opened their window and seen you with him on the street!”

Phil snorted. “No one opens their windows at night. They're scared.”

“Hunters do!” Anthony protested aggressively. “The point is that it's risky. Anything could happen at any moment. You need to be careful.”

Phil blinked, noticing the furious determination in Anthony's eyes. A twinge of guilt shot through him, and he hung his head in shame. “You're right. I'm sorry,” he admitted with a sigh. “I'll be careful.”

Anthony shook his head exasperatedly. “I feel like this whole thing was a bad idea,” he admitted in an exhausted voice, “I shouldn't have agreed to it.”

“Whatever.” Phil rolled his eyes exasperatedly and asked, “Didn't you say that you'd tell me more about the Village?”

Anthony blinked his eyes in surprise. “Oh, yeah. I did,” he acknowledged, “What do you want to know?”

“I think I've heard about the Village before, but I have never seen it. There are no photos or videos on the internet. Have you been there?”

Anthony nodded. “Yeah.”

“Did . . . did Dan come from the Village?” he asked curiously.

Anthony frowned thoughtfully. “Yeah, probably,” he conceded in a solemn voice, “It's called a ‘village’, but it's actually a huge city. They even have an airport. It's quite prosperous. I've heard that their trade and business is flourishing right now.”

“What?” Phil exclaimed in shock. “Really? I thought they were all super poor or something.”

Anthony scoffed. “No way. There are countries that accept and support winged people. They're slowly gaining freedom everywhere,” he elaborated gravely, “Just think of the Village as a different country. They have their own culture and law and everything, but if they come into our territory, we arrest them. There was a peace treaty a long time ago that–”

“Oh. I've heard about that,” Phil chimed in.

Anthony nodded. “According to the treaty, winged people can come into our territory and hunt at midnight, but no one cares about that. Hunters arrest them no matter what time of the day it is.”

“Can normal people go to the Village?” Phil questioned earnestly. Dan's home was in the Village, and Phil wanted to see him every now and then. He had been waiting impatiently to ask this question, and he couldn't stop his heart from pounding. He desperately wanted to find a way to meet Dan every once in a while.

Anthony shook his head. “They probably can't. They'll need special permission from both governments. You'll need to specify the exact reason for going there.”

Phil's eagerness vanished, and he leaned back quietly. “Oh.”

Anthony shrugged. “No one wants to go to the Village anyway. Winged people are pretty hostile towards humans.”

Phil let out a fake chuckle. “Yeah, that's true,” he mumbled silently. His heart sank, and he shouted at himself inside his mind. It was all hopeless from the very beginning. What was he expecting? Dan was a winged man, and Phil was a mere human. Their entire friendship was pretty meaningless in the end. There was no hope. None at all.

~*~

“Do you need anything else?” Dan asked quietly in an empty voice, handing him a glass of water. Taking the glass from Dan, Phil shook his head wordlessly. He took small sips from the glass and relaxed his shoulders in relief.

It was late at night, and everything was serene and silent. The sounds of rushing vehicles and chattering crowds had ceased completely. The world outside the window was asleep, but Phil was fully awake. “Thanks,” he murmured and placed the empty glass on his bedside table.

Dan nodded and turned on his heel. “Good night,” he told Phil in a small voice, and Phil's heart sank in despair. Dan had been quiet all day, refusing to engage in any conversation. Phil had pestered him to no end, but it felt like Dan didn't even want to acknowledge his presence. His eyes kept looking elsewhere, and his words sounded all empty. It was intolerable.

“Dan,” he blurted impulsively before Dan could leave. “Wait.”

Dan turned back with a frown. “What's wrong?”

Phil leaned forward and wrapped his fingers around Dan's arm, looking up at him earnestly. “Stay with me,” he said in a quiet voice.

Dan blinked, and there was a hint of surprise on his face. He turned away. “No.”

Phil faltered. “Why not? What's wrong with you?” he asked. “Stay.”

“What's wrong with _me_?” Dan looked extremely confused. His gaze slipped to Phil's hand on his arm and remained there. “Nothing's wrong with me. It's just . . . why are you still touching me?”

Phil arched an eyebrow. “What?”

Dan frowned. “You confuse me.”

Phil stared at him in befuddlement and sighed in frustration. “I don't know what you're talking about, Dan, but just . . . stay with me, okay?” he pleaded desperately, his fingers tightening around Dan's arm. “Sleep here.”

Dan didn't answer for what felt like hours, but he finally bit his lip and nodded minutely. “Okay.”

Phil smiled gently in relief and shifted back to make space for Dan. He lay down comfortably and patted the bed. “Come on.”

Dan gave him a suspicious glance but did as he was told. He was still refusing to meet Phil's eyes, and he kept his gaze fixed at the ceiling, lying rigidly next to Phil with his long limbs sprawled on the bed. Phil was sleeping on his side, and he watched Dan in silence. He felt oddly calm when Dan was next to him. He felt at ease when Dan was by his side.

Utter silence prevailed for a long, long time, and Phil couldn't keep his eyes off Dan. He was slowly feeling it again, the weird sensation that had made him seek out Luke in the middle of the night. Suddenly, there was a sinking feeling in his stomach, and he didn't know what to do or say to break the erratic tension he could feel between them. All he could do was desire and dream from afar. An incredible urge to touch Dan blossomed in his chest. It was unavoidable. He gulped and swallowed, but it just refused to go away. He wanted to know how it felt like to run his fingers through Dan's little curls, to casually slide his arm around Dan's waist and gently tug him closer. He wanted–

“Why?”

Phil jerked back to reality immediately, looking up from Dan's lips to his eyes. “W-what?”

Dan stared at him with furrowed eyebrows, his eyes filled with a strange emotion. “I can smell it,” he disclosed in a barely audible voice, his tone full of sorrow. “Sense it.”

“What?” Phil moved back with a pounding heart and gulped. “What are you talking about?”

“I can smell it,” he repeated resolutely.

Phil was perplexed. “Smell what?”

Dan lifted his arms and gestured wildly, and Phil's eyebrows rose incredulously. He gave Dan a bewildered look, and Dan clenched his jaw, looking distressed and agitated. “I . . . ” he began in a choked voice. “I don't understand you!” he blurted grumpily, sitting up abruptly with a frustrated frown. “I can sense it. I can smell that you . . . you want to t-touch me, and I'm waiting for it, but then you don't! Why? You said you didn't have a mate, but you do. You always say that we're friends, but you keep touching my wings. You're weird!” He sniffed, almost teary-eyed, his voice wavering. “You confuse me. I can't understand you. I can't tell what you're thinking, and it's just–you are . . . you're a weirdo!”

Phil blinked in shock, and his heart stopped in his chest. He stared at Dan for a long, alarming moment. Was he dreaming? Did he hear it right? His throat felt choked, and his eyes widened beyond belief. All he heard was something about . . . _touching._ “What?” he managed to mumble in a stunned voice, “You can sense it? You want . . . you want me to–to touch you? What?”

Dan blinked repeatedly, and his eyes widened in disbelief, as if he couldn't believe what he had said. He swallowed visibly and averted his eyes. His cheeks turned a bright shade of red, and he fumbled with his sleeves, biting his lip in embarrassment. “Um . . . that's . . . I . . . um.” He flushed and looked away immediately, his brown hair covering his shame-filled eyes. He didn't answer, but his black wings shot up elegantly in the air and fluttered gorgeously, glimmering splendidly in the dim light of the room. Phil's eyes were drawn towards the radiance, and his heart rammed against his chest.

“Dan,” he whispered, sitting up carefully. “Look at me.” Was Dan thinking the same thing? Was Phil misinterpreting the situation? Was Dan as aroused as he was? Phil glanced down, and his jaw dropped. Oh god, _he was!_

Dan pursed his lips tightly, and the sound of his fluttering feathers filled the room. Phil's stomach was in knots, and his mind was all fuzzy. He was suddenly transfixed by the beautiful shape of Dan's red lips and the curls of hair tucked behind his ear. “Look at me,” he whispered again.

Dan fidgeted anxiously, and his wings were as noisy as ever. “N-no . . .”

“Do you . . . do you really want me to . . . ” Phil's breath instantly caught in his throat, and the words tangled in his mouth. Dan looked like he always did, but he was so close that Phil felt magically drawn to his beautiful features. He couldn't help but notice Dan's soft curls that fell over his cheeks and his clean, pale skin. He was wearing a little hint of lip gloss, and it made his perfectly-shaped lips look enchanting. His wings were glowing in the darkness, and Phil stared at him in astonishment. Without consciousness thought, he lifted his hand automatically and placed his palm on Dan's cheek quietly, feeling the smoothness under his fingertips. “Like this?”

Dan bit his lip, and his teeth scraped against his plump lips. Phil gulped greedily, leaning closer instinctively. He knew he was staring but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Wind whistled softly into the room through the open window, and he could almost see the beautiful night sky outside. The curtains rustled, drowning out the tense silence in the room. “Um,” Dan mumbled in a voice barely above a whisper. His cheeks were flushed pink, and he was blinking at Phil in embarrassment. “You're too close.”

Phil swallowed, and he felt paralyzed, unable to move. He cupped Dan's jaw, and he couldn't let go. His gaze was wandering, observing the way the moonlight gleamed behind Dan, making him look like an angel. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't stop. Dan wanted _Phil_ to _touch_ him. It was a golden opportunity. “Does it bother you?” he murmured, leaning close and placing his forehead against Dan's.

Dan swallowed nervously, and his wings shimmered beautifully as if it were embedded with little diamonds. It was the first time he had seen it look so majestic, and he turned his questioning gaze back to Dan. “No,” Dan answered, his face completely red and flushed. “It–it doesn't bother me.”

Dan was _trembling_ _,_ and Phil was beyond amazed. “Why are you shaking, Dan?” he asked in an equally quivering voice. Phil's heart was almost waiting behind his tongue, beating so fast that he was afraid it would pop out and tumble to the floor. He could feel Dan's breaths on his face, and his face was so close that Phil could see the little rings around his irises clearly.

Dan closed his eyes tightly and opened them nervously. “I don't know.”

Phil smiled at his awkwardness, and he wanted more. He wanted to see and feel and touch, but seeing Dan's flushed, embarrassed face was even more exciting. “Do I still smell like someone else?” he asked quietly, cupping Dan's face tenderly.

Dan's breaths were irregular, and his wings fluttered noisily. He lifted his hand, and his fingers curled tightly around Phil's T-shirt. “No.”

Phil nodded awkwardly. He couldn't breathe. He only needed to move an inch and their lips would touch. “Okay.”

Dan's hands tightened around the material of his T-shirt. “You–you're too close,” he said in a choked voice.

“I want to be,” Phil answered quietly, sliding his hand down to place it under Dan's chin. Dan opened his mouth to say something, but Phil finally found courage deep inside him and tipped Dan's head up slightly, leaning forward and connecting their lips in a tender but ardent kiss. His heart was pounding so maniacally that it felt like it would combust any second. He had no idea what he was doing, and he felt as if he were helplessly standing on top of a cliff, ready to fall and die. It was a split-second decision, and one with a billion irreversible consequences, but in that small, peaceful moment, he couldn't think about anything. For a few seconds, he felt like he didn't need to care about the world.


	24. It's awkward

At first, Dan didn't make any movements at all. He was still as a statue and in a state of shock. His lips were tightly closed, and his entire body was stiff like a stone wall. Phil's lips pressed harder, but there was no hint of reciprocation. He lost his nerve in a mere few seconds, and he was sure he had read the wrong signs. He was ready to pull back, an apology already waiting on his tongue. His heart plummeted in dejection, and he let go of Dan's face glumly, but before he could shuffle away completely, Dan gripped his hand desperately. His brown gaze was elated and sharp, and he had an earnest expression on his soft face. He leaned closer and reconnected their lips, closing the gap between them swiftly.

Phil's heart pounded against his chest, and he cupped Dan's delicate face in his hands, placing wet kisses on Dan's wonderfully soft lips. His mind was hazy, and everything felt dreamy and electric. Dan's fingers twisted tightly around the fabric of Phil's T-shirt, and Phil could feel Dan's warmth against his chest. His lips slowly moved against Dan's, and it felt like he had reached heaven alive. The feeling of unprompted despair in his stomach had blossomed into something beautiful, and all he could feel was a strong, passionate desire. All he knew was that he wanted _more_. More and more of this euphoric feeling.

“Dan,” he pulled back and breathed deeply, “Is–is this okay?”

Dan blinked his long eyelashes and stared up at him dreamily. His stunning brown eyes were aglow with happiness, and his face was radiating with delight and awe. His curls fell over his red cheeks, and Phil's heart thudded against his ribcage. “Y-yes,” he answered in a quiet voice, his face flushed completely and his wings fluttering loudly.

Phil swallowed and leapt forward at the opportunity. He shifted and rose from his bed impatiently, capturing Dan's lips back into an eager kiss. Dan made a small, startled noise from his throat, and Phil could hear the thumps of his heart in his ears. His whole body was ablaze, and he couldn't keep his appetite in check. He wanted _more_. He had been avoiding, suppressing and outright denying his sexual attraction to Dan for so long that it felt like he had been waiting for this moment all his life. A part of him had always been aware of it deep inside, but he didn't want to accept it.

Phil panted and flung one leg over Dan's thighs, climbing on top of him in one swift movement. He hovered over Dan's body, and his hands tangled in Dan's soft hair.

Dan made a soft little noise, and Phil felt something stirring in his belly. He pressed his mouth harder and licked Dan's lips, cautiously slipping his tongue inside and discovering his mouth. Dan smelled like sandalwood with a hint of lemongrass, and his hair was so unbelievably soft in Phil's hand that it slipped through the gaps between his fingers like strands of silk. Dan's tongue moved against Phil's slowly, but there was hesitation and inexperience in his movements. Phil couldn't bring himself to care. He was feeling ecstatic and aroused, and his hand wandered and dropped from Dan's soft cheek to explore the pale skin of his neck.

Heat pooled in Phil's stomach, and his lungs screamed for air. He had forgotten to breathe, and his throat squeezed. He pulled back and panted, but he didn't want to stop. Dan's smell was invigorating, pulling him in deeper and deeper, making him want to lick and kiss every part of him.

Phil trailed his lips down Dan's jaw, peppering sweet kisses on the way. He slipped his leg between Dan's thighs, and Dan immediately tensed, placing his hands against Phil's chest, stopping him abruptly. “P-phil,” he panted roughly, “I–”

Phil blinked and instantly snapped out of his trance, pulling away completely to stare down at Dan. His breath immediately caught in his throat when he saw the state Dan was in. His face was completely pink with embarrassment, and his brown curls were messy and splayed on his pillow, his black wings spread out on the bed in a majestic display of pure beauty. He bit his red, wet lips shakily, and Phil gaped shamelessly. “Um,” Dan murmured, breathing heavily. “This is . . . ” He looked away awkwardly, turning his head and exposing the side of his neck and bare shoulders.

Phil gulped with desire, and he was _so hard._ He was panting and hovering above Dan, straddling his thighs. He couldn't help himself. He leaned down and placed a small kiss on the crook of Dan's neck. Dan let out a shaky breath, and his hands gripped Phil's T-shirt tightly. “Phil . . .” he breathed timidly.

Phil moved back quickly. “Yes?”

Dan managed to catch his breath and whisper, “I've never . . . this is . . .” Dan looked away in embarrassment. “I've never k-kissed or . . . or done um, any . . .” he trailed off awkwardly.

Phil's mind slowly came down from the high to reality, and his eyes widened when he registered Dan's words carefully. “Are you–” He inhaled sharply. “Are you a virgin?”

Dan swallowed and his throat bobbed, grabbing Phil's desperate attention. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes, helplessly urging himself to calm down.

“Y-yes,” he whispered finally in a small voice, making Phil blink in shock. “We don't–winged people–um, we don't touch each other until . . .” He looked away with a blush.

Phil was instantly hit with a huge bucket of shame. The euphoric feeling dimmed and died, and he immediately felt angry with himself. He never thought Dan was a virgin. It was so obvious, but it never crossed his mind. All he knew was that he was severely attracted to Dan, and he had accidentally made himself believe Dan wanted to do this as well. He never stopped to think about Dan's feelings, and he was ashamed of himself. “I . . . I'm sorry,” Phil blurted and sighed deeply, “I didn't know.”

Phil lifted his leg and moved away cautiously, sitting down beside Dan with a long sigh. “I'm sorry, Dan,” he told him. “I thought you wanted to . . .” He shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“No, I–” Dan sat up and pulled his knees to his chest, blushing deeply. “I liked it.”

Phil blinked and turned to look at Dan. Dan flushed red and fidgeted with his fingers nervously. Phil's chest fluttered incessantly. “You did?”

“Yeah.” Dan nodded. “I'm just not used to it.”

“Oh.” Phil gulped, and he felt a strange warmth in his stomach. “Okay.”

“Um, I need to use the bathroom,” Dan blurted, looking embarrassed. “I'll be right back.”

Phil swallowed awkwardly, and his eyes immediately slipped down to observe Dan's erection. Dan's eyes widened in shame. He hurried out of bed and turned away. Phil bit his lip in disappointment. “Okay,” he answered reluctantly and watched as Dan hastily hobbled away, slamming the door shut behind him.

There was complete silence for a while, and Phil let out a huge disappointed sigh. He exhaled and looked up at the door, swallowing painfully. The scene replayed over and over in his head, and his heart was beating faster and faster. The taste of Dan's lips and the softness of his tongue . . . the way his skin felt under his palm . . . Phil fell back on his bed and groaned in frustration. “Ugh.” He rolled to the edge of the bed and cringed at himself, rolling back to the centre with an annoyed huff. “Damn.”

The picture of Dan's body under him was burned into his mind, and he closed his eyes tightly. In the back of his mind, he was berating himself for giving in to his emotions and kissing Dan. It was a mistake he would never be able to undo, but the more he thought about it, the more apparent the solution became.

Dan was merely a temporary guest, someone who would inevitably leave one day. Phil was unusually used to having friends with benefits, and he couldn't deny the fact that he was intensely attracted to Dan any longer. After observing Dan's reaction to his touches, he was sure that Dan felt the same way. Dan had looked enthusiastic about the idea of a sexual relationship between them. As long as both of them maintained boundaries and refrained from getting too attached to each other, it should be fine.

No one had to know. Sex was sex, and this could turn out to be a very enjoyable experience for both of them. It was simply a temporary arrangement. Dan would have to leave in a few days, and it would automatically come to an end as all things did. They would never meet again, and Phil would keep the secret in his heart forever. It seemed like the smartest, most logical idea he had ever come up with.

~*~

Phil awoke blearily the next day and was immediately bombarded relentlessly with the memories of the previous night. He jolted upright in excitement and looked around with furrowed eyebrows, searching for Dan. There were black feathers littered all over the bed, and it was proof that Dan had slept near him. He immediately remembered what had happened and shrunk back to the bed in shame. He had fallen asleep before Dan came back from the bathroom, and he screamed at himself for his stupidity and carelessness. “Shit,” he swore in remorse.

After the initial embarrassment had passed, he lay in his bed and stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours and hours, his heart pounding helplessly with anticipation and elation. There was a thrilling sensation in his bones, and he couldn't wait to see Dan's face. His eyes were aglow with delight, and his brain was buzzing with thoughts and questions. What kind of face would Dan make today? What would he say when he saw Phil today? What would he do? How would he react?

Dan's flushed cheeks zoomed into the forefront of his mind, and Phil jumped up from the bed hastily, his heart thudding against his chest. Almost instantly, pain shot up his ribs, and he let out a groan. “Ouch,” he grumbled, glaring at the healing wounds on his arms. He harrumphed in determination and ignored the pain. He sprang to his feet fervently and dashed to his bathroom. His mind was full of Dan as he brushed his teeth thoroughly and took a shower swiftly just in case. He hummed a melody happily and floated around the room with a smile on his face, staring at himself in the mirror like he had reverted back to his teenage days. It was a surreal, almost childlike eagerness that he hadn't expected to ever feel again.

When he was sure he looked immaculate, Phil stepped out to the hallway giddily and made his way earnestly to Dan's room, opening the door silently. He peered into the room with a small smile to notice Dan standing in front of the mirror, as usual, brushing his feathers with a pensive expression on his delicate features. Phil's heart lodged in his throat, and he couldn't take his eyes off Dan. His hair was wet and tousled, and his flawless skin glistened with beads of water. He whirled around to inspect his back, and his wings shimmered beautifully.

Phil swallowed, slightly mesmerized, and it made him want to touch Dan. It made him want to hold his slim figure in his arms. “Dan.”

Dan jerked back and looked up with startled eyes. “Phil,” he breathed deeply and blushed a deep shade of red. “You didn't knock,” he stated nervously, turning his gaze away.

“Yeah,” Phil whispered in a daze, moving closer and closer to Dan until they were standing face to face. Dan dropped his eyes to his feet, looking everywhere but at Phil. “Sorry about that.”

“Um . . .” Dan's cheeks were as pink as his full lips. “Good morning.”

Phil's heart pounded in his ears, and he couldn't believe what he was doing or what was happening to him. He was completely enthralled by Dan's dark brown eyes and his adorable reactions. “Are you nervous?” he murmured with a small smile.

Dan fidgeted with his sleeves and looked sideways. “A little.”

“Why?”

Dan frowned confusedly and turned to glare at him. “What do you mean why? I've never– _mmph_ _._ ”

Phil leaned forward and pulled him into a soft kiss, wrapping one arm around Dan's slender waist and pulling him closer against his chest. He cupped Dan's jaw with his free hand and pressed their lips together, his heart flipping in his chest. Dan smelled fresh and sweet, and his lips moved smoothly and fit perfectly with his own, as if it was meant to be. Dan's hands gripped Phil's collar tightly, twisting the fabric between his fingers. It was overwhelming and exciting, and he never wanted to let go.

The wall was just a few inches behind Dan, and Phil walked him back absently, pressing him softly against it as he sucked gently on Dan's bottom lip and tilted his head, deepening the kiss. Dan made a soft noise from his throat, and Phil's chest fluttered. He had never felt so desperate and eager. His sexual life had always been fairly satisfying and enjoyable, but this was a feeling he had never experienced. Dan's smell itself made him delirious, and he was filled to the brim with desire.

Phil pulled back quietly and rested his forehead against Dan's, breathing heavily. He stared at Dan in silence and tucked a stray lock of Dan's curly hair behind his ear. “You taste like strawberries,” he whispered softly.

Dan opened his dark brown eyes, and there was a wild spark inside them that matched the excitement Phil felt stirring inside him. “It's–”

Phil couldn't resist himself. He placed a small peck on his lips. “It's what?”

Dan flushed, and his lips were wet and slightly swollen. “It's probably–”

Phil placed another kiss on his full lips and smiled. “Probably?”

Dan scraped his teeth against his bottom lip in embarrassment, and Phil stared with concentration. “It's probably the lipgloss.”

Phil swallowed, and his heart skipped a beat. “Is that so?”

Dan avoided his gaze, his cheeks bright pink and his wings fluttering incessantly. “Yes.”

Phil's arm was still wrapped around Dan's waist, and the citrusy scent of his shampoo was intoxicating. All Phil wanted to do was bury his nose in Dan's soft hair and feel his skin under his fingertips, but Phil knew Dan was a virgin and therefore, he couldn't bring himself to be anything other than gentle.

Phil sighed silently and gathered all of his strength, pulling away reluctantly and dropping back on the bed. Phil smiled up at Dan, patting the space next to him. “I'm sorry.”

Dan tilted his head adorably in confusion. “About what?” he asked, sitting down next to Phil.

“About last night,” he said, “I fell asleep.”

“It's okay.” Dan blushed. “You're injured.”

Phil let out a small chuckle. “I'm fine, Dan,” he assured. Another thought occurred to him, and he asked, “Who were those guys though?” Phil crossed his legs comfortably. “Why do they hate you so much?”

Dan placed his hands on his knees and glanced at Phil. “Who? Tony and Oscar?” Phil nodded, and Dan's eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. “I don't know. Back when I used to live at the cabin, I saw–”

“Cabin?” he interjected in a questioning voice.

Dan nodded and grinned. “Yeah. It's near the lake. I'll take you there sometime.” Phil stared at his glowing face with a small smile and waited for him to continue. “I saw them bullying a human boy, and I told them to stop. I helped him escape. Since then, every time I see Tony and Oscar, they try to hurt me. They call me a human sympathizer.”

Phil frowned in anger. “So, they're assholes?”

Dan smiled. “Yeah.”

“What about the girl?” Phil wondered with furrowed eyebrows. “Amelia, was it?”

Dan tensed up immediately, and his wings shrivelled. He averted his eyes hastily, fumbling with his long sleeves with an awkward expression on his face. “Uh . . . she's . . . I know her, but . . . ” he hesitated and bit his bottom lip. “I can't tell you. I'm not–I'm not supposed to talk about that,” he mumbled in a meek voice, “I'm sorry.”

Phil arched an eyebrow in extreme curiosity, staring at Dan's fretful posture and uneasy attitude. He wanted to press harder and force the information out of Dan, but he knew jealousy would get him nowhere. Dan was scheduled to leave soon, and making him reveal his secrets was pointless. “It's alright,” Phil told him with a kind smile. “You don't have to tell me. It's okay.”

Dan hung his head in remorse. “I'm sorry, Phil.”

Phil lifted his hand absently and patted his head, ruffling his soft hair. “I told you it's fine,” he huffed exasperatedly, standing up slowly.

Dan flushed, and he stared up at Phil earnestly, fluttering his wings behind his back. “Okay.”

Phil looked down in amazement, suppressing the terrible urge he felt to push Dan back and kiss him all over. He didn't want to startle Dan like he had done the previous night. He tore his gaze away firmly and turned around in one swift motion. “Are you hungry?” he asked as he stepped to the door. “Do you want–”

“Wait.” Dan blurted, gripping the hem of his T-shirt. “Phil.”

Phil glanced back curiously. “What's wrong?”

Dan faltered, “Um, that's . . .” He let go of the T-shirt and stared at his feet. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Who was–” He began uncertainly with an indiscernible but firm expression on his face. “Who was that person?”

Phil frowned. “Who?”

Dan looked conflicted. “You said you went to see a friend. Who was he?”

“Oh, you mean Luke,” Phil guessed, “Yeah, he's my friend.”

“Friend?” Dan asked, “Is he your mate?”

Phil gave Dan a confused smile. “I'm not sure how relationships work in your society. Mate means boyfriend, right?” Dan nodded. “Then no, he's not my mate. We're just friends.”

Dan perked up. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

Dan furrowed his eyebrows contemplatively. “Humans are such strange creatures.”

Phil rolled his eyes fondly. “ _You_ are a strange creature,” he mumbled with a small smile and turned back to the door. “Do you want tea?”

Dan snapped out of his thoughts and stood up to follow him, grinning widely. “Yes.”

~*~

Phil made sure to maintain some distance all day. He averted his eyes whenever Dan glanced at him and limited their physical contact to the bare minimum. His heart had been in a constant state of sweet delight all day long, and he tried to suppress his attraction for the time being. If he didn't, he was afraid he would pounce on Dan and scare him away before anything had a chance to begin between them.

Phil wasn't entirely sure where to even begin. Dan was, unsurprisingly, an inexperienced virgin, and according to his knowledge, most people preferred to lose their virginity to someone they truly loved. Phil didn't know if Dan would want his first time to be with someone he would never meet again. Anthony had mentioned the severe displeasure winged men had for physical contact, and Dan had confirmed it. Phil didn't know how to approach the situation, but he was determined to not do anything that would make Dan feel uncomfortable, or unsafe.

Phil huffed in silent frustration, his eyes slowly focusing back on the computer screen. He chewed on his bottom lip anxiously, unable to concentrate. He let out a soft sigh and leaned back, turning around quietly in his chair. It was late in the afternoon, and Dan was perched on his bed with his laptop like he did every day. He was a bit more fidgety and jumpier than usual, looking like a cat on a hot tin roof since the morning. It strengthened Phil's resolve to wait until Dan announced he was ready.

Phil let out another long sigh and watched Dan in silence. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed with a bowl of ice cream, his eyes fixed on the screen. He looked up confusedly when he felt Phil's gaze. “What?” he asked, tilting his head adorably.

Phil smiled happily at him and his eyes drifted down to Dan's hands. His forefinger was coated with a little bit of ice cream, and Phil stared unblinkingly.

Dan frowned in confusion and glanced down at the bowl before looking up at Phil. “Do you want some?” he inquired, lifting the spoon.

Phil's heart thudded, and he was almost drooling with desire. He nodded swiftly and stood up from his chair. He moved towards him and pushed the laptop aside, sitting down in front of Dan. Dan stared at him, looking absolutely flummoxed. He frowned in confusion and looked down at the bowl. “Okay, here–”

Phil grasped his wrist, and Dan blinked at him repeatedly. Phil smiled at him and leaned close, licking his forefinger. Dan's eyes widened in shock, and he stared at Phil in astonishment, his cheeks glowing a bright red. Phil smirked in satisfaction and swiped his tongue over his finger, licking it away. “It's good,” he declared in a pleased voice.

Dan stared at him with huge, embarrassed eyes and his wings fluttered noisily like never before. Phil smiled and leaned down, capturing his lips into a short, gentle kiss. Dan let out a surprised noise, and Phil's heart pounded in his chest. Dan tasted like vanilla, and Phil couldn't get enough of it. He pushed the bowl out of the way and placed it on the bed, leaning forward and cupping Dan's face. He pressed Dan back against the pillows and kissed him deeply, his hand tangling in Dan's hair. Dan's mouth was warm, and he tasted . . . _sweet._

Heat was growing in his belly, and the desire to flip Dan over to his stomach and take him right there was far too strong and uncontrollable. He breathed heavily through his nose, and urged himself to calm down. Slightly disappointed, he forced himself to pull back. He glimpsed down at Dan's adorable, flushed face and sighed quietly, ignoring the urge to kiss him again. Dan looked completely astounded by Phil's actions, and he gave Dan a lopsided smirk. “It's delicious, actually.”

Dan's face was full of awe. “W-what?”

“The ice cream, of course,” Phil teased, letting out a small chuckle.

“Oh.” Dan flushed red. “I, um . . .”

Phil placed his forehead against Dan's. “You what?”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip. “I thought you were mad at me.”

Phil blinked in confusion. “What?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, moving back. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don't know.” Dan shrugged. Phil let go of his face and moved away completely. “You were ignoring me.”

“No, that was–” Phil scratched his neck tensely, watching Dan sit up with a questioning look on his face. “I wasn't ignoring you, Dan. I just–” He sighed deeply and decided to be honest with his feelings. “I thought you wanted to take it slow. You've never done things like this, right?” Dan nodded with a blush. “I just don't know if you're okay with it.”

Dan fiddled with his sleeves restlessly, and Phil automatically grabbed his hands, proceeding to roll up his sleeves in silence. “I am.”

Phil looked up in surprise. “What?”

Dan avoided his eyes nervously. “I'm okay with it,” he murmured shyly, “With you.”

“Oh.” Phil blinked repeatedly in shock, and his heart skipped a beat. “O-okay. Er, good. Yeah. That's–” Phil swallowed, and he couldn't understand why he was feeling so nervous all of a sudden. “That's great. Yeah.”

Dan glanced at him in embarrassment, and he looked tentative and uncertain. He opened and closed his mouth twice, and his gaze wandered around the room anxiously. Phil arched an amused eyebrow, and he was about to ask Dan the reason behind his bizarre behaviour when Dan looked up resolutely. He nodded to himself and tackled Phil into a tight hug without warning. Phil jerked back in surprise, and Dan squeezed him strongly before releasing him wordlessly. Without another word, he stood up automatically and grabbed the bowl of ice cream. “Okay. Bye,” he blurted and turned around, heading to the door.

Phil stared after him with raised eyebrows. “What are you doing?”

Dan turned back to him with a confused frown. “I'm going to the kitchen,” he explained, holding up the bowl. “I want more ice cream.”

“No, that's not what I–” Phil sighed, and his chest filled with warmth. “Nevermind.” He grinned. “You're so weird.”

“No, you're weird.” Dan huffed.

Phil shook his head with a smile and dropped back to the bed contently. “Maybe we're both weird.”

~*~

“Dan?” Phil glanced to his right side, where Dan was sitting pressed against his arm, his eyes barely open. The random movie they were supposed to be watching was still playing in his laptop, but Dan looked half-asleep already. Phil smiled at him. They were both unusually awkward around each other, and the day had transformed into night before he could find a way to become comfortable with the new development. Phil had been busy answering emails all day, but he had looked forward to watching a movie with Dan. Normally, it was during this time that he felt content to be alone with Dan, but he hadn't expected Dan to fall asleep so soon. “You should sleep,” he suggested exasperatedly.

Dan's eyes drooped, and Phil closed his laptop, putting it aside. Dan's arm wrapped around him out of the blue, and he scooted closer to Phil, resting his head on Phil's shoulder. “Warm,” he mumbled drowsily.

Phil's heart pounded, and his chest suffused with affection. “What are you doing?” he asked in a faint voice.

Dan inhaled deeply in contentment, his eyes falling shut. He shuffled closer and stuck himself to Phil's side. “Cuddling.”

Phil was fairly surprised by the simple, straightforward answer. There were still so many unknown, strange sides to Dan. He wanted to take his time and explore all of them. “Oh.”

Dan went very still all of a sudden. “You ignored me all day . . .” 

Phil was taken aback. “I didn't ignore you. I told you that I just don't know what you're comfortable with yet.” Phil's awkwardness had made him subconsciously ignore Dan, and he made a mental note to act normal tomorrow. He needed to stop being so abnormally anxious around Dan. “I'll talk to you normally tomorrow, okay?”

Dan nodded tiredly. “Okay.” He lifted his head and looked up at Phil with heavy, sleep-filled eyes. “Should we kiss now?” he slurred in a confused voice.

Phil arched his eyebrows at the unanticipated question Dan had dropped on him. “Do you want to?” he asked in slight surprise. Dan's face was heavy-eyed, and he looked barely-conscious. Did he want to kiss?

Dan frowned, his curly hair falling over his eyes. “I'm sleepy.”

Phil's lips twitched up in amusement. Dan was adorable. “Then go to sleep.”

“But what about kissing?”

Phil chuckled mirthfully. “We can do that tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Dan agreed reluctantly and lowered his head. He furrowed his eyebrows in thought and looked up again. “But what about now?”

Phil took a deep breath and sighed with a fond smile on his face. He leaned down and gave him a small peck on the lips. “You're barely conscious. Go to sleep, you idiot.” He huffed, lying down next to Dan. He tossed his arm around Dan. “We can, er, cuddle if you want.”

“Oh.” Dan's face lit up immediately, and he scooted close to Phil, tucking his face under Phil's chin. “Okay.”

Warmth and a calming feeling of fulfilment pervaded Phil's chest, and he happily relished in it. He had accidentally made Dan feel ignored today, but he promised himself he would do better tomorrow. He closed his eyes in comfort, and his hand slid into Dan's soft hair. He massaged Dan's scalp faintly, making him hum in satisfaction. His brain was slowly shutting off, and his thoughts drifted away. He fell asleep with a feeling of achievement in his heart, waiting for tomorrow.


	25. You're so beautiful

“Hey.” Phil glanced up from his laptop and smiled cheerfully at Dan, taking a sip from his cup and putting it down. “You're awake,” he commented, resting his hand on the dining table. Dan's wings were pristine and shimmery. He usually spent hours preening his feathers in the morning and didn't show his face until he was done. He always looked flawless and impeccable when he came out of his room on typical mornings. “Good morning.” Phil pushed the cup of tea he had made for Dan towards his seat. “It's still hot.”

Dan bit his lip and flushed, staring pointedly at his feet. His wings were fluttering constantly. Phil arched an eyebrow. “What?” he asked in confusion. His own heart was beating fast, and he was desperately trying to act natural.

Thankfully, Dan didn't seem to notice his inner struggle. He fidgeted with his fingers and stepped forward wordlessly. He tiptoed around the table nervously, but his wings were fully stretched and large. They slammed against the cupboards and chairs around the table. He knocked the cereal box over and rammed another plastic bowl and pot to the floor, turning back with wide eyes to stare at the scattered utensils on the kitchen floor. Phil stared at the mess with an exasperated look on his face and signed. “Lower it,” he chastised, “Your wings.”

Dan pouted. “Sorry,” he murmured and grabbed his wings hastily with both hands, waddling over to Phil with an embarrassed look on his face. Dan's chair was directly in front of Phil, and he sat opposite Phil every day. Phil frowned at him when he awkwardly circled around Phil like a buzzing bee. “What's wrong?”

Dan let go of his wings and fumbled with his sleeves. “Stand up,” he mumbled in a small voice.

Phil raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “Why?”

Dan stepped back to give him space. His eyes avoided Phil and drifted around the kitchen before focusing somewhere above Phil's head. “Hug.”

“Oh.” Phil stared at him in surprise and suppressed an amused smile, rising to his feet enthusiastically. Dan looked at him earnestly, and Phil stepped closer. He lifted his arms and wrapped them around Dan, holding him tightly. Dan's arms crept around his torso, and Phil felt him inhale deeply. His restless wings lowered and went back to their normal state. Phil couldn't help himself. His hands reached out to stroke it, and his feathers were soft and smooth against his fingertips. “Are you okay?”

Dan nodded and pulled back with a grin. “I can calm down if I hug you,” he chirped happily and flushed. Phil stared at him in confusion, but he didn't get a chance to speak. Dan leaned closer and placed a brief, hasty kiss on Phil's mouth, moving back quickly with a bright, joyful face.

Phil couldn't stop the smile and utter delight that spread over his face. He stared after Dan as he turned away and headed to his favourite cupboard, grabbing a packet of biscuits from inside it. Phil sighed with a small smile and picked up the bowl Dan had knocked to the floor, placing it in the sink. He watched with an affectionate gaze as Dan munched on a biscuit, picking up the remaining items from the floor. His heart wasn't pounding, and he no longer felt thrilled or electrified like yesterday. He was completely calm, but there was a strange feeling of happiness that filled up his heart and overflowed. He felt warm inside out.

Dan tilted his head in confusion. “Do you want a biscuit?” he asked in puzzlement.

Phil sat down in his seat and leaned down casually, taking a small bite from the biscuit in Dan's hand. “Thanks,” he mumbled in a muffled voice as he chewed, looking back at his laptop. “It's sweet, but I like it.”

Dan stared down at his hand and looked up at Phil with wide eyes. He was completely quiet for a few seconds before popping the rest into his mouth with a frown. “Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“Why don't you wear your glasses now?” he asked with a puzzled look on his face.

“Oh. I'm wearing my contacts right now,” he answered, glancing down at his hand to inspect the healing cuts and scratches on his arms. He felt better than ever, and the bruise on his stomach was fading rapidly. He looked up in relief and met Dan's concerned gaze.

“Are you okay?” he questioned in a worried tone, “Are you still injured? How long does it take for humans to get better? Are you always going to be injured?”

Phil chuckled. “No, Dan. I'm okay. Bruises just take a while to heal. I'll be fine.”

“Oh.” Dan nodded pensively. “Okay.”

Phil smiled with a small, contented sigh and placed his chin on his palm, staring at Dan's face in silence. Dan fidgeted quietly for a few seconds and blushed. “W-what?” he stammered.

Phil shook his head. “Nothing.”

Dan frowned. “Why do you keep staring at me?”

Phil shrugged and gave him a sunny smile. “I don't know,” he said truthfully, “You just look cute.”

Dan flushed completely, and his wings rustled. “Um,” he stuttered, “Thank you.”

Phil was amused. “Why are you thanking me?”

Dan pouted but didn't reply, and Phil grinned, turning back to his laptop with a satisfied smile on his face. He could hear Dan munching on his biscuits in front of him, but it didn't irritate him. He looked down at the words on the screen and tried to focus back on the topic. He had been reading articles about the Village, and he hadn't found anything new so far. Most of it confirmed Anthony's speculation, but Phil was determined to research more into it.

“Phil,” Dan said suddenly.

Phil looked up. “Yeah?”

“Can we go to the cabin?” he asked eagerly. He wrapped his hand around his cup and took a sip. He coughed immediately and grimaced. “More sugar.”

Phil huffed. “You're addicted to sugar.” He gave Dan an exasperated look. Dan shot him a bright grin, and he couldn't resist it. He stood up and leaned over the table, placing a quick kiss on Dan's lips before turning back to grab the sugar. “Where is this cabin?” he asked with a frown.

Dan's wings fluttered loudly, and he stared at Phil with wide eyes as he added another spoonful of sugar into Dan's tea, stirring it with a small smile on his face. Everytime, Phil saw Dan's face, he wanted to kiss him. The temptation was too much to bear, but Dan's startled reactions always dragged him back to reality. It was obvious he wasn't used to it, but these small, peaceful moments were more than enough. Just being near Dan was enjoyable, and every moment with him was filled with excitement and feverish anticipation. Phil was floating up in the clouds with joy.

“It's behind the lake,” Dan answered, “Can we go there tonight? We'll fly. No one will see us.”

“I don't know, Dan,” Phil mumbled with a frown. “I'm going to Louise's place today. I won't be back until later tonight.”

Dan dropped his biscuit and looked up with wide, depressed eyes. “You . . . you're leaving?”

Phil nodded sadly. “I'm sorry. My friend, Louise–she's starting to get suspicious. She's been texting me every day. I don't want her to come here so I'm going to see her before that happens.”

“Oh.” Dan went still, hanging his head in sadness. His wings shrivelled up behind his back, and he stared at the rim of his cup, looking dejected. “Okay.”

Phil's heart melted into a puddle. He reached out and squeezed Dan's hand. “I'll come back as soon as I can, okay?” he whispered tenderly, “Can you wait for me?”

Dan pouted, glancing up at his face. Phil gave him a gentle smile, and he nodded reluctantly. “Okay . . . ” he whispered in a hesitant voice.

Phil smiled. “Good.”

~*~

“Why did I agree to this?” Phil huffed with an exasperated sigh when his feet touched the soft grass. He knew exactly why he had conceded to Dan's requests. Upon returning home, he had found Dan waiting for him on the couch. Dan had tackled him into a hug, and it was the very first time Phil had felt glad to be home. There was someone to go home to, someone waiting to welcome him home. It was a great feeling, and he had agreed to visit the cabin before he could think about it carefully.

Dan grinned at him brightly, his fluttering wings slowly coming to a halt as he landed on the ground gracefully. His brown eyes glowed with excitement, and his expression was happy and eager. Phil couldn't help but roll his eyes fondly with a small smile. This was the reason he had agreed without thinking. Dan was adorable, and he couldn't bring himself to rebuff his request.

Phil stared at him for a few seconds. His hands were still wrapped around Dan's waist, and he pulled him close, placing a gentle kiss on Dan's lips. It was sweet and brief, and something Phil never did with any of his other sex buddies. Dan was different.

Dan blushed furiously. “Um, Phil, we're–”

“I know,” Phil sighed softly and let go of Dan, moving back and smiling at him. “We're outside.”

Dan nodded hastily with wide eyes, and Phil looked around, examining the tall trees and greenery. “This is not Midnight Lake.” He frowned in confusion. “Where are we?”

“It is,” Dan answered excitedly, “We're on the other side of the lake.”

“Oh.” Phil's eager eyes scrutinized the surroundings thoroughly. It was almost midnight and the moon was high in the south. The sides of the trees glowed white in the moonlight, casting shadows behind them. The atmosphere was eerily calm and melancholic. He turned back to Dan, slightly unnerved by the silence. “Didn't you say you wanted to see the lake?”

Dan nodded. “Yeah, but I wanted to show you something.”

Dan smiled at him and grasped his wrist, pulling him forward. Phil furrowed his eyebrows but remained silent, following Dan without protest. He glanced around and surveyed the serene vicinity. The smell of damp earth and fresh grass was inebriating, and Phil could finally understand why winged people cared so much about nature. It was a peaceful feeling, blissed out under the moonlight. He couldn't find the correct words to explain the exact emotion.

Dan tugged his sleeves suddenly, and Phil turned his gaze away from a tree and back to Dan. “What?” he asked.

Dan grinned and pointed with his hand. “My house!”

Phil blinked, and his eyes widened in surprise. His gaze followed Dan's hand and landed on a small cabin a little distance away from them. Dan grinned at him and yanked him forward excitedly, pulling him towards the cabin. Slightly astounded, Phil followed him, staring at the cabin with wide, amazed eyes. It was small but looked newly made and sophisticated. There were little stairs on the front and a large wooden chair on the porch. Phil blinked incredulously. “This is your house?”

Dan nodded enthusiastically and led the way. Phil climbed up the steps dubiously, and Dan fiddled with the doorknob, opening it easily. Phil peered inside with impressed eyes, examining the area. The cabin had only one single room. It was tiny but looked cosy. Everything was clean and organized, but there weren't many things in the room. There was a chair and a table, a shelf with a few books, and a folded mattress and pillows stacked in the corner. It didn't look like someone's home; it looked more like a temporary accommodation.

“So, when you used to disappear before . . .”

Dan nodded. “This is where I stayed.”

Phil frowned. “What did you eat? You used to disappear for days at a time . . .” His eyes widened in concern. “Don't tell me you always starve–”

Dan shook his head. “Food is delivered.” He pointed to a fresh basket of fruits on the table. “Every day.” He stared at his feet quietly. “It doesn't matter if I'm here or not.”

“But you can't digest the food because you don't consume blood,” Phil said pensively. Another thought invaded his mind, and he stopped his train of thoughts immediately. He blinked in shock. “Wait, who delivers food?”

Dan went very quiet all of a sudden, staring at his feet pointedly. “A friend,” he whispered in a vulnerable voice. He turned to the basket of fruits and picked up the rectangular box near it. “I came to take this back.”

“What's that?”

Dan opened the lid. “It's human currency.”

“Currency?” Phil frowned, peering into it doubtfully. His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped open in shock. He stared at the huge chunks of money and gasped. “Fuck, that's a lot of money. What the hell? Where did you–” He narrowed his eyes in suspicion and apprehension. “Did you fight with your parents or something? Did you run away with this?” he asked angrily, and Dan hung his head in shame, looking small. He fiddled with his sleeves, and Phil automatically moved closer, grabbing his arms gently. “You can't tell me?” he guessed.

Dan swallowed nervously. “I'm sorry,” he answered shamefully. “I didn't steal it. Someone gave it to me.”

“And you can't tell me who gave it to you.” Phil sighed. “You can't tell me anything.”

Dan nodded guiltily. Phil stayed quiet, understanding Dan's dilemma. He rolled up Dan's sleeves gently and wordlessly, remaining completely quiet. He had some theories about Dan, and he had a sneaking suspicion that Dan was a rich kid who had run away from home. It was clear and deducible from his elegant manners alone, but this new information confirmed it. “It's okay,” Phil told him contemplatively. “You can tell me when you want to. It's not my place to force you. It's fine to not want to talk about things. I understand.”

Dan stared at him with wide eyes, and his cheeks turned bright pink. His wings fluttered loudly, and Phil ruffled his hair. “But what were you doing in the alley if you had a safe place to stay?” he asked confusedly.

“Tony and Oscar . . .” Dan began sadly, “They know I come here and . . . ” He bit his lip in despair. “I don't like bugs, and there's no electricity. It's dark. I get scared at night . . .”

“Oh.” Phil pulled Dan into a comforting half-hug. “Is it okay to be here then? What if those ass–Tony and Oscar decide to come back?”

“They won't,” Dan whispered, “They probably realized I don't stay here anymore.”

Phil nodded. “Okay.”

There was silence for a while, and Phil's heart was calm. Phil didn't doubt Dan or feel suspicious of him. In fact, he was relieved to know Dan had an attentive friend, money and a place to stay. He had always wondered why Dan kept coming back with bruises all over his body, but now he knew why. His heart ached and anger flooded inside him when he thought about Tony and Oscar. He was bullied a lot as a teenager, and he could sympathize with Dan's feelings. A strong sense of protectiveness washed over him, and he held Dan closer, breathing deeply to keep himself calm.

“We should go,” he said finally as he pulled back. Dan's calm expression immediately changed into disappointment, and Phil added, “To the lake.”

Dan looked up earnestly in surprise, and Phil smiled, “I'll teach you how to swim.”

~*~

“Don't be such a baby, Dan.” Phil huffed exasperatedly. “You're never going to learn anything like this.”

Dan's arms were wrapped around Phil's waist, and he clung to Phil like his life depended on it. “I'm not a baby,” he complained sulkily, “There's something in the water!”

“No, there isn't,” Phil countered simply, “If you keep clinging to me, you'll never learn to swim.”

“I'm scared,” Dan mumbled in anger. “There are probably snak–”

“No, there are no snakes or ghosts in the water, you idiot,” Phil grumbled and forcibly uncoiled Dan's arms from his waist. “Let go.”

Dan pouted and sulked stubbornly, reattaching himself to Phil's body like a sloth. He wrapped his arms tightly around Phil's torso, making Phil sigh in frustration. “Dan, let go,” he ordered irritably.

Dan squeezed him tightly and mumbled against his shoulder, “No.”

“Do you want to swim or not?” he asked genuinely, “You're just making up excuses at this point.”

Dan went quiet for a while. “I'm sorry,” he whispered slowly in a disappointed voice. “I just want to hug you . . .”

Phil blinked at his sincere tone and sighed deeply, staying still for several minutes. His heart thudded, and his fears came true. He was trying to avoid causing this exact scenario as much as possible, but he ended up in a compromising position nonetheless. He cursed his luck with a pounding heart. They were both in their boxers, standing in the shallow end of the lake with the water covering them up to their knees. Unlike Dan, Phil was completely wet and water was dripping from his hair. No matter how hard Phil tried to convince him, Dan refused to step further into the depths of the lake. He insisted on sticking to Phil's body.

Phil huffed in agitation and breathed deeply, inhaling Dan's delightful scent. He blinked all of a sudden and stared with wide eyes at the pale, smooth skin of Dan's shoulder, just a mere few inches away from his lips. A brilliantly cunning strategy formed in his mind, and he smirked evilly, his eyes ablaze once again with excitement. Dan was still glued to his body, his arms wrapped around Phil's waist tightly.

Phil licked his lips and smirked widely, sliding his arms around Dan's waist and hugging him back soundlessly. His chest fluttered for no apparent reason, and he swallowed, slightly nervous with anticipation. He leaned forward just an inch and pressed his wet lips against the crook between Dan's neck and shoulder. Dan's body tensed instantly, and Phil smiled in satisfaction. He inhaled deeply and trailed his nose from the crook of his neck to the end of his shoulder, his heart thudding in his chest.

Dan shuddered, and his arms loosened. “P-phil . . .”

Phil pulled him closer with a smirk and placed wet, open-mouthed kisses on Dan's neck. Dan trembled and let out a soft whimper, “Phil, what are you–” His fingers curled tightly against Phil's naked skin. “What are you doing?”

Phil smiled at his adorable reactions and sucked at the sensitive point on his neck, giving it a gentle bite and licking over it lightly. Dan trembled, and Phil's heart thudded violently. Dan's skin was soft against his lips, and his unique smell was wonderful and invigorating. Heat slowly churned in Phil's belly, and he suddenly didn't want to stop. Why should he stop? His sexual desires emerged from the depths of his mind, and it was compelling . . . irresistible. It felt natural and familiar, something that he knew how to do, and something that brought him immense joy. He wanted it, and he took the opportunity. He wanted to touch more, _feel_ more.

Dan quivered slightly. His wings stretched to their full capacity and fluttered abruptly, shimmering with a newly obtained glow. The sound was so sudden and sharp that Phil stilled immediately. He blinked in utter surprise and pulled back gradually, staring at Dan questioningly. His eyes widened, and his heart skipped a beat without meaning to. Dan's whole face was flushed red, and his brown eyes were filled with embarrassment and arousal. His delicate face and tousled hair induced something wild in Phil, and he swallowed the strong urge that overcame him.

“Dan, I . . .” He opened his mouth without knowing what he wanted to say. Dan was in front of him. Everything he wanted was right there, next to him, before his very eyes. Dan's red lips and familiar waist and soft skin . . . it was all near his fingertips. He could take it if he wanted, and the realisation made his heart pound and flood with desire.

“Yes.”

Phil stilled immediately. “W-what? I didn't ask anything ye–”

Dan swallowed and squeezed his arm. “The answer is yes.”

Phil stared with wide eyes at Dan's flushed face. He was feeling breathless and blissful all of a sudden. “Can I? Really?”

Dan bit his lip tightly and averted his eyes. “Yes, just stop asking. Please–” 

Phil didn't need to hear anything else. He leaned forward and pressed their lips together without wasting another moment. Dan let out a surprised gasp, and his fingers balled into fists against Phil's chest. His soft pink lips fit perfectly and moved smoothly against Phil's own. His tongue was hesitant but eager, and he tasted of vanilla and sugary candies. Phil had already made up his mind, and his body shivered with anticipation. He angled Dan's head with shaky fingers and pressed open-mouthed kisses down his neck, walking him back to the shore.

Phil cupped his jaw tightly and captured his lips again. There were small pebbles and stones lining the lake, and Phil was gentle as he pushed Dan back. Dan's knees were still half-submerged in the water, and there was mud and dirt everywhere. Phil couldn't bring himself to care. He didn't even glance at it, or maybe he hadn't even fully comprehended it. His surroundings were a blank black page because all he could see was Dan. He climbed on top of Dan and kissed him gently, tangling his fingers in Dan's soft locks of hair. 

“Is this–” Phil asked in between kisses. “Is this okay? Are you alright?”

Dan's face was red, and he nodded in a daze. “Okay. I am. Yes,” he murmured with wide eyes. “Alright.”

Phil chest fluttered, and he placed his forehead against Dan's, letting out a breathless chuckle. “Breathe, Dan.”

Dan nodded and he surprised Phil by leaning up to kiss him. His soft hands cupped Phil's face, and his movements were as desperate as Phil's. Phil's tongue slipped into his mouth, and he pushed Dan back against the ground, his hands roaming all over his body. His body was warm and soft, and Phil couldn't stop kissing and touching him. He could feel Dan's hands exploring his chest and back, and it was incredible. 

Dan let out a soft moan. “Phil . . .”

“Yeah?” Phil murmured, slipping one leg between Dan's thighs and pressing his knees slightly against Dan's erection. He felt the inordinate thrill of exhilaration in his body as he kissed down Dan's neck.

Dan whimpered and panted, “Phil, I–”

“I know,” Phil whispered softly, placing kisses down his chest. He trailed his lips to Dan's right nipple, and Dan stilled, his cheeks flushed red and his eyes wide. His wings were spread out on the grass, glowing beautifully in the moonlight. Phil's heart was pounding without disruption and his cock hardened. The warm sensation of extreme arousal below his stomach was intolerable, and he wondered why he felt so uncontrollably horny. It was impossible to ignore it.

Phil breathed heavily, and Dan's smell was intoxicating, suffocating almost. He moved closer and gave Dan's nipple an experimental lick. Dan let out a startled gasp and moaned, squeezing his eyes shut and panting harshly. Almost instantly, a surge of pleasure burned through Phil's stomach, and he desperately wanted to hear that sound again. He licked and took the small nub into his mouth, sucking lightly. Dan shuddered, and his fingers clenched around the grass on the ground.

Phil rolled his hips, and Dan arched his back, “P-phil, that's–I–just–”

Phil's fingers inched closer to Dan's erection, and he palmed it with his hand, feeling Dan's hardness. Dan panted heavily, and his eyes were bright and vivid as he stared at Phil, biting down on his bottom lip hard. “Can I?” Phil asked delicately, pulling the band of his boxers. He moved back and straddled Dan's hips.

Dan swallowed, and his chest was heaving. He nodded in embarrassment and shyness. Phil smiled softly and pulled it down in one swift motion. Dan's member sprang out swiftly, thick and wet with precum. Phil licked his lips, staring at Dan with expectant eyes. Dan stared back at him with wide-eyed anticipation. Phil smiled at him. He placed his forefinger on the tip of Dan's cock and trailed it down slowly. Dan threw his head back and let out a soft moan. “Phil,” he shuddered, “I feel–”

Phil leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Dan's lips. “Relax, baby,” he whispered quietly, “Let me take care of you.”

Dan inhaled sharply with wide eyes, and Phil smirked. He moved back and coiled his fingers around Dan's member, swiping his thumb across the tip and spreading his precum around the length. Dan moaned loudly and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing irregularly. He slowly moved his hand up and down his shaft, watching Dan's reactions hungrily. Dan panted and whimpered and moaned, his fingers curling and uncurling around the grass.

Phil's cock was aching for release, and the constant swirl of heat in his stomach was unbearable. He let go of Dan's dick, and pushed his boxers down, grasping his cock shakily. Dan breathed deeply, and his eyes widened with astonishment. He stared at Phil's member with huge, innocent brown eyes, and it was almost enough to make Phil come right then and there.

“That's . . .” Dan flushed and his eyes glowed. “That's your . . .”

“Yeah,” Phil grunted, swiping the precum and pumping his cock slowly. He closed his eyes against the waves of heat rolling through his body and let out a huge sigh of relief, opening his eyes and staring at Dan's delicate face with hungry eyes. His breaths were coming out in small pants. He laboured his breathing painfully and reluctantly let go of his cock, shifting his position slightly to get comfortable.

Phil inhaled deeply, and his cock slid easily against Dan's, rubbing against the sensitive skin. The friction made Dan throw his head back again and pant roughly. Phil gripped both of their cocks, slippery with precum, in his hand and pumped slowly. He thrust his hips forward and grunted softly, his mouth opening in a daze as a rush of euphoria hit him at once. Dan let out a moan, and his fingers gripped the grass tightly.

Phil's eyes were transfixed by the scene of Dan's beautiful body in front of him. He rutted against Dan, and the feeling of his cock sliding against Dan's made him squeeze his eyes shut. His hands pumped, and his heart pounded with quick, unsteady beats. Dan moaned and squirmed with pleasure, arching his back and panting roughly. “Phil, I–please–”

Phil thrust forward abruptly, and Dan threw his head back with a moan. He abandoned his cock and took Dan's member fully into his hands, pumping it in a steady rhythm. Dan squeezed his eyes shut and arched his back with a moan. 

Phil's eyes widened, and he was mesmerized by the beautiful scene unfolding in front of him. Brown curls splayed across the grass and framed Dan's pale, vibrant face. His delicate skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, and as he arched his back, his lithe figure lifted from the ground and captured Phil's undivided attention. His black wings were outstretched on the soft grass, and they suddenly glistened like someone had sprinkled glitter from above. They always had a slight shimmer to them, but in that moment, they looked ablaze, ignited by Dan's arousal. They gleamed and fluttered, and everything around him glowed brightly.

Dan looked like a beautiful angel, and Phil felt breathless all of a sudden, captivated and completely struck by Dan's sheer beauty. “Fuck,” he whispered and leaned down, kissing him roughly, plunging his tongue into Dan's mouth. His hands moved, quickly and steadily, up and down Dan's shaft, making Dan moan into his mouth. “You're so beautiful,” he murmured, kissing down Dan's jaw.

“I–” Dan moaned and whimpered, his body trembling violently as he came into Phil's hands, breathing heavily.

Phil's breath caught in his throat, and he moved back in a daze. His cock was aching and leaking. A little touch was all he needed, and he stared at Dan unblinkingly. “Fuck, that was–” he swallowed, and his hands found his cock again. Dan was limp on the ground, arms lying weightlessly on the grass. He was panting harshly, and Phil couldn't look away. His hands pumped faster and faster, and a few seconds was all it took for him to come into his hands with a rough groan.

Phil panted and slumped forward on top of Dan, rolling to the ground next to him. His hands and thighs were coated with cum, and his limbs ached from exertion. He scooted towards the edge and cleaned his hands in the water, shuffling back to Dan's side lazily. Dan had retracted his wings, and Phil kept quiet, staring at the starry sky and breathing heavily. There was complete silence for a long, long time, and it took even longer to recover cognizance and strength again.

“Are you alright?” Phil asked when his breathing had returned to normal.

Dan flushed and bit his bottom lip shyly. “I'm okay . . .”

Phil's chest fluttered with delight. He turned and cupped Dan's jaw, kissing him tenderly. “Okay,” he whispered with a relieved smile. “Good.”

Dan sat up in silence and mumbled, “Hug.”

Phil smiled and grabbed Dan's arm, pulling him to his chest. He squeezed Dan's body and whispered, “There.”

Dan flushed and cuddled up against his chest, looking away in embarrassment. “We should, um, we should go back.”

Phil smiled softly. “I know,” he whispered, staring up at the night sky. “We should stay for a few more minutes.”

Dan tucked his head under Phil's chin happily. “Okay.”


	26. Attachment

“Checkmate!” Anthony howled with laughter, slapping his knee with enthusiasm and toppling back to the sofa with his clenched fists raised in victory. “Ha! You lost again!”

“Shut up!” Dan shouted angrily with a sharp glare, throwing a pawn at Anthony's face. “You cheated!”

Phil's eyes lifted from the screen of his laptop just in time to see Anthony pump his fists in the air. He dodged the pawn and roared with laughter. “You're a sore loser,” he taunted Dan with a wide smirk. “Dan is a sore loser!”

“I am not!” Dan huffed in fury, folding his arms across his chest and glaring at Anthony. Anthony stuck his tongue out childishly to provoke Dan, humiliating him further. Dan grimaced in disgust and turned to Phil, as always, for help. An odd sort of friendship seemed to have formed between Dan and Anthony, but it was only noticeable when both of them were playing chess. “Phil!”

Phil let out a huge sigh of exhaustion and turned to Dan wearily. “Yes?”

“Punch him!” Dan ordered angrily, pointing at Anthony's smug face. This was another brand new side of Dan that he had discovered just recently. He hated losing more than anything and bantered with Anthony with flared nostrils for hours and hours without getting tired. He was like a different person when he lost his composure. It was _adorable,_ and Phil wanted to see more.

Phil smiled affectionately and dropped his gaze back to the screen. “No. This is your fight.”

Dan frowned at him with a disappointed pout and looked back at Anthony. “I'll win this time!”

Anthony grinned widely. “Sure.”

Dan glared at him. “Don't underestimate me! I will–”

“Yeah. Yeah. I hear you.” Anthony rolled his eyes and began rearranging the pieces. Phil shook his head in exasperation and focused his attention back on the screen. It was Anthony's day off, and he had been playing chess with Dan since the morning. Dan had lost innumerable times, and they kept bickering and fighting over chess pointlessly. Phil had exhausted all of his energy and trying to mediate their fights had worn him out a long time ago. He had decided to simply ignore them for the time being.

They had already started another game, and Phil looked up briefly to notice Dan squinting his eyes at the chessboard. He bit his bottom lip in concentration, and his long, pale fingers hovered over the rook, switching back to the pawn behind it.

“Come on!” Anthony threw his hands up with a groan. “You just move your pawn around uselessly and hoard all the important pieces. This is the reason you keep losing!”

Phil huffed with a roll of his eyes, and his gaze fell back to the screen. He was browsing through a subreddit he had found which seemed to support winged men. There was a lot of valuable information about winged men and their culture on the front page. He had been reading the unbiased opinion of people on the subreddit for hours. As far as he knew, it was a small subreddit made by a group of activists who sought freedom for winged men. They worked for unity between humans and winged people. They had a post explaining their point of view. It elaborated on the importance of trust, and that fascinated Phil.

He clicked on another post and tuned out the bickering going on next to him. He narrowed his eyes and skimmed through the paragraph, blinking in surprise. Phil didn't know who these activists were, but he was highly impressed nonetheless. Without giving it a second thought, he clicked the ‘join’ button and upvoted all the posts.

“Shut up. Let me think!” Dan snapped abruptly, breaking Phil's concentration once again.

“You're taking too long!” Anthony complained with a groan.

Phil looked up with a curious frown, glancing at the chessboard and quickly assessing the game. His eyes widened slightly and a small smirk spread across his face. He leaned closer to Dan discreetly. “Dan,” he murmured into his ear secretly, glancing at Anthony who had his full focus fixed on the chessboard. “Take his Queen.”

Dan blinked in surprise, and Anthony looked up with a blank expression on his face. “I heard you, Phil,” he muttered with raised eyebrows, “That's called cheating.”

Dan grinned brightly like Phil had handed him the moon and leaned close happily to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thanks,” he said cheerfully, and Phil's eyes widened in surprise. He snapped his gaze to Anthony quickly to notice him narrowing his eyes at the affectionate gesture. Phil swallowed nervously, and he regretted helping Dan immediately. He desperately wanted to hide their relationship from Anthony.

Thankfully, Anthony didn't comment on it. He simply huffed with a groan. “It's not fair!”

“It is fair,” Dan announced cheekily with a wide grin and captured the most valuable piece of the game: the Queen.

“You cheating piece of shit!” Anthony shouted aggressively, staring at his Queen in shock. “Put it down. Put it down! You can't take that!”

Dan shrugged. “Yes, I can.”

Phil sighed tiredly and watched the continuation of the game for several silent minutes. Anthony was still winning it in every way, but Dan's tenacity was impressive as well as annoying. He ignored Phil's presence for the rest of the game, and Phil finally got bored with it. He closed his laptop and placed it back on the chair. “I'm going to make tea,” he declared loudly with a huff. Both Dan and Anthony were too immersed in the game to pay attention to him, and Phil slightly furrowed his eyebrows at Dan.

Did Dan actually like Anthony? The questioned loomed over him like an ominous shadow as he trudged to his kitchen. He folded his arms across his chest and frowned resentfully at the stovetop. There was a bitter taste in his mouth, and he cursed Anthony's friendly, welcoming personality. Dan was naive, and it was possible that he was attracted to the cheery, positive aura that emanated from Anthony at all times. Both of them were similar in a way. Kind, optimistic and caring towards the people they liked. Their conversations had turned from irritated squabbles to light-hearted banter, with a few occasional jokes thrown inbetween. Phil couldn't help but be a little bit . . . jealous.

Phil shook his head and snapped out of his thoughts, feeling silly all of a sudden. In the end, none of it mattered. Dan would leave soon, and it would all be over in a few days. Phil had used the specialized syringes Anthony had given him to collect blood, and Dan drank it with his tea every few days. He was healthy and better. His wings were capable of flying perfectly. There were no more excuses to make him stay.

Phil was quiet as he made tea for himself and Dan, his mind blank and empty of thoughts. He poured an unfathomable amount of milk into Dan's cup and added a teaspoon of sugar, stirring it with an absent mind. His heart was oddly heavy with emotion, and he felt lost all over again. His hands stilled, and he stared down at the kitchen counter emptily for several long moments. What was he doing? He didn't know. He was no longer sure where his life was leading him.

There was movement behind him, quiet shuffling noises and a small sound of tiptoeing footsteps. Phil blinked, and he jerked in surprise when he felt two arms wrapping around his waist from behind him. He looked down and felt Dan's body press against his backside in a loose back hug. Dan squeezed him, hugging him tightly. The heaviness in his heart immediately disappeared, and he felt warm all over. “Did Anthony leave?” he asked quietly, adding another spoonful of sugar and stirring it slowly.

Dan nodded against his shoulder, peering at the cup earnestly. Phil's chest fluttered involuntarily. “He got a call from someone, and he left quickly,” he answered with a small pout.

Phil sighed softly in satisfaction. He had been eager to be alone with Dan since the morning, impatiently glancing at Dan all day from a distance and resisting the urge to touch him. Phil dropped the spoon and whirled around, cupping Dan's cheek with one hand and pulling him into a soft kiss. Dan let out a small noise of surprise but smiled against his mouth happily. It was brief and lovely, and Phil pulled back to see a bright grin on Dan's face.

His heart skipped a beat, and without thinking much about it, he coiled his arms around Dan's waist and picked him up. Dan's eyes widened slightly, and he blinked in confusion, clinging to Phil helplessly. Phil grinned and deposited him on the kitchen counter, standing between his legs, his arms wrapped tightly around Dan's waist. He smiled at Dan's flushed face and placed his forehead against Dan's. “So,” he murmured quietly, staring at Dan's pink lips.

Dan blushed and fumbled. “So.”

“Do you like Anthony more than me?” Phil asked quietly, “I'm a little jealous.”

“No.” Dan frowned incredulously. “I hate him.”

“Really?” Phil raised his eyebrows curiously. “You always look more energetic when he's around.”

“That's because . . .” Dan pouted adorably, and Phil couldn't resist himself. He gave Dan a small, quick peck on the lips. Dan flushed red. “That's because I don't like losing . . .”

“Is that so?” Phil whispered in a soft voice.

Dan stared at him for a while in silence, and then lifted his arms, gently cupping Phil's face with both hands. Phil's eyes widened slightly in surprise, and he immediately felt fragile. There was something about Dan's gentle touch and delicate hands that made him feel very vulnerable. “I don't like anyone more than you,” Dan said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned down and joined their lips. Phil's arms tightened around his waist, and he tilted his head up to kiss him properly.

The kitchen was completely silent, and he was surrounded by utensils and cutlery. It was a normal day and an ordinary kitchen. He could feel the humidity in the air, and he knew if he opened his eyes, he would see the tendrils of smoke emerging from his tea. There was nothing special or extraordinary about such a plain, simple and unnoticed moment, but for some unfathomable reason, his heart was pounding with hope. It was strange to him, but there was an inexplicable warmth in his chest, and he felt like the happiest man alive.

Phil pulled back and stared at Dan's grinning face, smiling without even knowing. He moved away in silence and grabbed Dan's cup, thrusting it into his hands. “Here.”

Dan wrapped his fingers around it happily and grinned, swinging his legs cheerfully and taking a sip from his cup. Phil smiled at him affectionately, but his smile faltered slightly when the inescapable thought of Dan leaving popped into his mind. He turned away from Dan and stared emptily into his cup, a hollow ache making itself known in his heart. What was he supposed to do? What did he _want_ to do? He didn't know anything. His feelings were always all over the place and hard to understand.

“Phil.”

Phil glanced up with a frown to notice a worried expression on Dan's face. Dan's brown eyes were sharp and knowing. He put down his cup and jumped down from the counter, shuffling wordlessly to Phil's side and wrapping his arms around Phil. He placed his head on Phil's shoulder, and Phil's chest fluttered with fondness. His arms automatically circled around Dan. “What are you doing?” he whispered.

Dan shrugged. “Hug.”

Phil's heart sank deeper and deeper, and the feeling of dread wriggled its way into his mind. He couldn't stop thinking, and he knew he was beginning to panic. He wanted Dan to stay, but it was an impossible and unrealistic dream. He was already putting everyone's lives at risk. Anthony had agreed to let Dan stay for a few weeks, and Phil couldn't possibly ask for more. It wasn't like he was _in love_ with Dan or anything. It was just sexual. It didn't actually mean anything, and it was always supposed to end. He was–

“Phil,” Dan mumbled in a gentle voice, “Can we watch a movie, please?”

Phil blinked out of his thoughts immediately. His arms were holding Dan far too tightly. It was probably suffocating, but Dan hadn't complained. The immediate realisation and embarrassment that crashed against him made him want to run back to his room and hide in shame. He pulled away instantly and turned back to his tea. What was he doing? He was an idiot. “Y-yeah,” he answered breathlessly, “Let's do that.”

Dan stepped away and nodded. “Okay.”

~*~

  
“Uh . . .” Dan swallowed, looking up at Phil with wide eyes. Phil's hands were on either side of Dan's head, and he was hovering above Dan. Everything around him was pure black, but he could clearly see Dan's face. His dark brown gaze met Phil's eyes in anticipation and a little confusion. “What?”

Phil stared down at him earnestly, and his hands itched to touch. His skin tingled when he thought about it, and the urge was slowly climbing up his chest. “Let me make you feel good,” he suggested in a quiet voice, his eyes refusing to leave Dan's equally eager face.

Dan's cheeks turned red, and he swallowed shakily, giving Phil a tiny nod. “Okay.”

Phil smiled fondly. He lifted his hand, brushing Dan's curly hair back, fingertips trailing delicately down the side of Dan's face. Dan's eyes fluttered close automatically, and his dark eyelashes resting against his rosy cheeks was a sight to behold. Sometimes, Phil couldn't believe that it was possible for someone like Dan to exist. It almost felt like he was living inside a legend. Dan looked like a mythical being, with his angelic wings spread out on both sides like something out of a fairytale or folklore. It was unreal. It shouldn't be allowed to happen in this world.

Phil's chest pounded at the thought, and a blissful, almost unearthly feeling of arousal unfurled in his body. He leaned down and captured his lips, inhaling the invigorating smell of Dan deep into his lungs. His tongue easily slipped past Dan's soft lips and tangled with his tongue, the wet, smacking sound of their lips filling the air.

Dan tasted of strawberry and chocolates, so sweet that Phil felt slightly dizzy and high on sugar. His hand roamed freely, sliding under Dan's shirt and touching his delicate pale skin. His heart pounded violently, and his hand wandered to Dan's nipple. He took it between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a little squeeze. Dan reacted by curling his fingers tighter on the collar of Phil's shirt. Phil felt even more exhilarated by Dan's reaction, leading him to roll and twist the small nub between his fingers.

Dan gasped. “ _Mhpp_ _–_ Phil,” he breathed shakily, swallowing harshly. “Just–that's–”

Phil smiled against his lips in amusement and used his knee to spread Dan's legs apart, sliding it between his thighs and pressing forward against his erection. Dan panted into his mouth, and Phil trailed his lips to Dan's neck, placing wet kisses down his chest as he slipped down to his destination. He kissed Dan's stomach and grinned at Dan's wide-eyed face. “Can I?” He felt like he should ask.

Dan gulped in anticipation and nodded nervously, staring at Phil with huge brown eyes. Phil didn't need to ask again. He pulled Dan's pyjamas down in one quick yank, and Dan's dick sprang out, a bead of precum waiting at the tip. Phil smiled in satisfaction and looked up at Dan to see him staring at Phil with startled, disbelieving eyes, his mouth agape in tense expectation. His hair was messy, and little curly strands brushed his cheekbones, making him look young and pretty.

Phil's stomach twisted itself in knots. He smiled happily and caressed Dan's inner thighs gently, staring at Dan with affection. His fingers inched closer and closer, and he could distinctly hear the hitch in Dan's breath. He bent down and pressed a feather-light kiss on the tip of Dan's cock, making Dan jerk back in shock, his brown eyes wide in surprise. “W-what–” he stammered and breathed heavily, “What are you–”

Phil poked his tongue out of his mouth and swiped it across the crown, tasting Dan and licking his lips. Dan let out an aroused gasp, and his fingers curled around the bedsheet, bundling it up in his hands for support. Phil's cock twitched with repressed arousal, and he took a deep breath to control his intense sensations. He tipped his head down and wrapped his lips around the crown of Dan's cock, sucking on it lightly. Dan threw his head back and moaned his name, his chest heaving up and down in frustration.

Phil licked down the shaft and used his hand to pump Dan's erection until Dan was used to the sensation. He lowered his head and sucked the head, dipping his tongue into the slit, taking Dan's member deeper into his mouth. Dan's cock was thick and heavy on his tongue, and the weight of it in his mouth felt wonderful. He rarely gave blowjobs, and he had never liked the taste or texture in his mouth before, but just the knowledge that it was _Dan_ was enough to send him into a frenzy. He licked and sucked, spreading saliva on his cock and moving his mouth up and down his shaft. Dan whimpered and his fingers twisted and tightened around the bedsheets.

Phil's body was moving on its own. He couldn't stop. Dan looked distraught as Phil sunk down on his cock, taking it deep into his throat. Dan's eyes squeezed shut, long black eyelashes hiding his deep brown eyes. Phil increased his pace and his head bobbed, thrilling flames of pleasure licking his skin. Dan threw his head back and moaned. His back arched and he trembled and shuddered, “T-too much,” he choked out with a gasp, “I can't–”

Dan's cock hit the back of his throat, and Phil used both of his hands to press him down to the bed. Dan's wings fluttered noisily and glowed brightly, spreading luminescence and illuminating the whole bed. Phil took him fully into his mouth once more, and Dan whimpered violently. He arched his back and his fingers squeezed the sheets as he came with a broken moan.

Phil continued his movements for a few seconds and helped Dan come down from the high of his orgasm. Dan's cock popped out of his mouth, and Phil licked his lips with a satisfied grin. He moved back and stared down at Dan with a cheerful gleam in his blue eyes, taking in Dan's dishevelled hair, swollen red lips, tearful eyes and red cheeks. The bedsheets were a jumbled, twisted mess, and the room was dark and quiet. The small flutter of the curtains and Dan's heavy pants were the only sounds in the room, but between it all, Dan's pale, glowing skin and astonished expression stood out like a sore thumb.

Dan looked more beautiful than ever, and Phil's chest ached. He swallowed quietly and leaned down, placing his palms on either side of Dan's head to support himself. He connected their lips into a gentle kiss, tasting nothing but sugar on Dan's lips. There was a strange contradiction between the warmth in his chest and the unreasonable dread in his stomach. A part of himself was happy and content in the present peaceful moment, hopeful even, but another, scary part of him was worried about the future.

Phil pulled back quietly and toppled to the empty space next to Dan. He stared at the ceiling in complete silence for many quiet moments and realized that his cock had gone flaccid. He swallowed quietly and turned to Dan who was staring back at him, lying on his side. “You okay?”

Dan nodded, and his eyelids were barely open. He blinked repeatedly to keep them open and failed. “Mm.” He nodded. “Cuddle?”

“Are you sleepy?” he asked with a small smile, reaching forward to brush Dan's curly locks back from his forehead. He wrapped his arms around Dan. “You're adorable.”

Dan blinked and squinted his eyes, shuffling closer to Phil. “No . . . I'm not sleepy,” he murmured sluggishly.

Phil huffed exasperatedly and pulled him close to his chest. “Go to sleep.”

“No,” Dan protested weakly in a barely audible voice, “I want to . . . I want to do that to you.”

Phil frowned in confusion. “Do what?”

“What you just did to me.”

“Oh.” Phil blinked in surprise and smiled contently. “Maybe tomorrow,” he whispered fondly and brushed Dan's hair back, placing a small, lingering kiss on his forehead. “Good night.”

Dan inhaled deeply, his eyes closed. His delicate face looked content and peaceful, and he tucked his face under Phil's chin. Phil smiled and hugged him closely, feeling the warmth of his body. His chest was full, and a fragile, tender emotion blossomed in his heart. The intimacy of the quiet moment was not lost on him, but he knew it would only be painful to dream about it. He closed his eyes in contentment. The atmosphere in the room was serene and restful, and Phil fell asleep in minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I just want to inform you all that there won't be an update next week. Sorry! I'm taking a tiny break. I'll skip the next Thursday, but I'll be back on the Thursday after that. Man, I absolutely hate breaking a routine, but well, I also know when I'm at my limit and need a break. So yeah. That's it. 
> 
> See ya! (〜￣△￣)〜


	27. Rising affection

“Dan, you forgot to turn the lights off in the kitchen and bathroom last night–” Phil blinked and halted dead in his tracks, his hand stilling on the doorknob. He was standing behind the half-open door, staring shamelessly at Dan's naked body. As per usual, Dan was posing gracefully in front of the full-length mirror, but there was one conspicuous difference this time. He was stark naked, standing in the clean bedroom with his milky skin unveiled for all to see. His skin glistened with the remains of a warm morning shower and beads of water covered his body.

The eye-popping contrast between his black wings and pale skin made Phil gulp, and his breath staggered in his throat. “Dan . . .” Phil's eager blue eyes wandered from the redness of Dan's cheeks to the swell of his butt. “Er . . .”

Dan jerked back in surprise and swirled around abruptly. His wings fluttered beautifully, sprinkling droplets of water everywhere in his vicinity. “Phil!” He flushed in embarrassment and glared at Phil. “Why do you never knock?!” he shouted. His large wings shot forward to cover his naked body. “You startled me!” he complained irritably, pulling his wings around his body like a warm cloak.

Phil swallowed anxiously, and he couldn't stop himself from gaping at Dan like a dead fish. Dan looked so beautiful. The view was remarkable and breathtaking. Dan was no longer skin and bones. His body was healthier and gorgeous, glowing delightfully with newly regained strength. Phil's heart thudded, and he struggled to control the intensely lewd thoughts that penetrated his mind. He couldn't stop himself from imagining how beautiful that pale body would look beneath him . . .

“W-what?” Dan bit his lip anxiously, “Stop staring at me like that. It's embarrassing.” His wings wrapped tighter around him. “Stop thinking . . . weird stuff.”

Phil blinked repeatedly and snapped out of his thoughts. _Fuck_. He shouldn't be thinking of that . . . not yet. He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, straightening his back swiftly. He stepped towards the bed and sat down on the edge, returning to his normal self. “How do you know what I'm thinking?” He raised his eyebrows in question.

Dan frowned thoughtfully. “I don't. I can't tell what you're thinking. It's just . . . it's a feeling. I can't explain it.”

Phil nodded. “You mentioned it before, didn't you? You can smell it, right?”

“No.” Dan's expression turned pensive. “I'm not sure. It's . . . sometimes, I just know what you want. I just feel it. I know. I don't know if it really is a smell. It feels like a smell. It's hard to explain. I'm sorry.”

“It's fine,” Phil assured, “Is it an ability all winged men have? Can you tell what everyone else is feeling?”

“No . . .” Dan's cheeks turned pink. “Just you.”

“Oh.” Phil was confused, but he shrugged it off. “It must be pretty convenient.” He smirked, giving Dan a knowing look.

Dan blushed. “Leave!”

“What? It's not like I've never seen your dick before,” he muttered, and he knew he sounded like he was sulking.

Dan's eyes widened. “You . . .”

Phil raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Yes?”

“You're vile!” Dan huffed, grabbing his wings with both hands and concealing his body protectively. “Get out.”

Phil rolled his eyes with an amused smile. He sat up a little and gestured with his hands. “Come here,” he whispered.

Dan narrowed his eyes doubtfully, “Why?”

Phil shrugged with a grin. “I want to hug you.”

Dan stared at him incredulously. “No, I'm naked.”

“Please?”

Dan frowned suspiciously but slowly nodded. “Okay,” he agreed and added, “But you're not allowed to look.”

Phil sighed with a small smile. “Okay.”

Dan's wings covered his body like a small cocoon, and he wrapped his hands around them to keep them in place, awkwardly waddling towards Phil. Phil let out an amused chuckle . . . but it died in his throat when Dan looked up and glared. He cleared his throat with a few, awkward coughs and looked up at Dan's soft face. “You're so cute,” he taunted playfully and pulled Dan closer, making Dan stand between his legs.

Dan flushed red, and Phil wrapped his arms around Dan's waist, looking up softly. “I won't look if you don't want me to. Don't worry,” he murmured gently.

Dan chewed on his bottom lip, his cheeks bright pink. He nodded wordlessly and let go of his wings, placing his hands on Phil's shoulders. Phil placed his chin on Dan's stomach, looking up at his face with a gentle smile.

“What?” Dan asked quietly.

Phil didn't answer. He squeezed Dan's waist tighter and pressed a kiss on Dan's stomach. “Nothing.”

Dan frowned. “You're a weirdo.”

“Yeah.” Phil smiled and hugged Dan tightly, closing his eyes in contentment. “It's just nice. Waking up and having someone to hug . . . I–” He hesitated for a split second. “I like having you here.” He felt a tingling warmth all over his body, and he suddenly didn't want to let Dan go. _Ever._ Every day that went by was leading them to the inevitable. These peaceful days were never meant to last from the very beginning. Phil had tried and tried to dislike Dan. He had made an active effort to not get attached. Their temporary arrangement was never meant to develop into such an intimate relationship. It should never have grown and flourished into something more, but it did, and he didn't want to let go.

“You confuse me,” Dan whispered, and his hand tangled in Phil's hair, his fingers carding through his hair slowly. “Are you happy, or are you sad? I can't tell. Humans are complicated.”

Phil swallowed and closed his eyes, taking in the peacefulness of the silence. Dan's body was warm, and Phil hugged him close. He wondered if Dan was thinking the same thing, if he was as worried as Phil was. Probably not. Thinking and rethinking about something unchangeable was ultimately futile, and Phil shoved it roughly to the back of his mind. It didn't matter. Dan would leave, and Phil's life would go back to the way it was. Life without Dan would be slightly lonely, but with time, Phil would get over it. It was a fact of life. Moving on had always been easy for Phil anyway.

“What are you thinking?” Dan mumbled in confusion. “Are you okay?”

Phil loosened his grip. “Nothing.” He pulled away with a fake smile on his face. “I'm alright.”

Dan stared at him for a few seconds and shrugged, smiling back. “Okay.” He turned back to the mirror nonchalantly. “Can I ask you something? What's Amazon?” He brushed his hair back, looking at himself in the mirror. “I saw it in a video. Can I buy stuff from it?”

“Amazon?” Phil frowned confusedly. “Yeah. You can. What do you want?”

Dan frowned and looked down at his hand, opening his fingers one by one and counting in silence. He looked back with a grin. “Lots of things!”

Phil sighed affectionately. “Okay. I don't mind.” Dan's face lit up, and he flashed him a grin. Phil's eyes slipped down to Dan's neck, his gaze following a trickle of water that slipped down his pale chest. He glanced up at Dan's wet hair and asked quickly, “Do you want to shower with me?”

“Shower?” Dan tilted his head in confusion. “I just showered.”

Phil nodded. “Shower again,” he said simply with a nonchalant shrug, “With me.”

Dan frowned at him incredulously. “No, I won't. That's weird.”

~*~

“This is embarrassing!” Dan pouted stubbornly.

“You're such a prude.” Phil snorted with amusement, stepping onto the cold ceramic tiles with a quiet chuckle. The shower was already running, and he raised his eyebrows at Dan who was hiding in the corner. He had agreed to take a shower again after some persuasion. All it took was a chocolate bar, and Dan had scurried into the shower before Phil had the chance to complete his sentence. He was shyly standing in the corner with his back turned on Phil, hiding in his cocoon of wings. He adamantly refused to look at Phil's naked body, and he was concealing his red face from Phil.

“I'm not a prude!” Dan protested weakly, turning around to glare at Phil.

Phil rolled his eyes and turned away from Dan. The sprinkle of water ran down his body, dripping from his hair and sliding down his chest. He relaxed his muscles in contentment and closed his eyes in bliss. His rough hands involuntarily slipped down to tug at his aching cock, giving it a few lazy pumps. While persuading Dan, he had dreamt and fantasized about being in the shower together with Dan, and his aroused feelings had overloaded. It was almost agonizingly painful, and he let out a husky groan. “Ah, fuck,” he breathed, opening his eyes reluctantly. Warm water flowed down his face, and he wiped it with his free hand.

“That . . .” Dan stammered nervously, and Phil blinked, turning to face him.

Dan was still standing in the corner, but there was a wide-eyed, startled look on his face. He was no longer hiding his body in embarrassment. His wings were raised and fluttering restlessly. He stared at Phil shamelessly with huge brown eyes and gulped, stepping forward curiously. “Can I . . .” he began quietly, his eyes fixated on Phil's cock. “I want to . . . um, I want to do what you did . . . ”

Phil's lips twitched up into an amused smile. “Do you even know how to do it?”

Dan nodded confidently with a bright grin. “I googled it the other day.”

“You googled . . .” Phil's eyes widened. “Did you watch porn?”

Dan nodded pensively. “For research purposes, yes.” His eyebrows furrowed in disgust. “Some of it was weird though. There were a lot of humans, and they had these strange machines and stuff. It confused me.”

“What the fuck did you watch?” Phil blurted in shock. “That wasn't normal porn.”

Dan shrugged nonchalantly, and Phil didn't know how to react. He wanted to laugh at Dan's naivety, but it was also quite depressing to think about the fact that Dan had never watched porn. “Are you sure you want–”

“Let me do it,” Dan said with a pout. “I want to try. Don't worry. Winged people have great instincts.”

Phil stared at Dan's determined face. “Alright,” he agreed instead with a small sigh. “I don't really mind.”

Dan nodded enthusiastically, and Phil smiled, pulling Dan closer and pressing their lips together roughly. Dan's tongue slid into his mouth, surprising Phil. He walked back slowly, pressing his back against the wall and cupping Dan's face tightly in his hands. Droplets of water dripped from Dan's hair to his face, and he could hear the sound of the running water.

Dan pulled back after a few minutes, wide-eyed and expression filled with determination. He lowered himself to the ground and stood on his knees, staring at Phil's erection with eager eyes. Phil's pulse jumped abruptly, and the marvellous picture of Dan's beautiful, pale body on the ground for him was too much for his brain to comprehend. His hands quivered slightly with anticipation, and his heart flipped and dashed back to pound against his ribcage. The thought of having his cock in Dan's mouth made him gulp, and he waited impatiently.

Dan bit his bottom lip anxiously, and Phil swallowed. He glanced up earnestly, and the depth of his brown eyes made Phil shiver. His heart pummeled against his chest, and he stared down at Dan with immense expectation. Dan's tongue poked out of his mouth and hesitantly swiped at the tip, making Phil pant slightly. He gulped and stared at Phil for what felt like hours, and it was becoming unbearable. “Fuck, you're making me nervous, Dan.” He breathed shakily. “Do it quickly, or I'll die.”

Dan nodded anxiously and opened his mouth wide. Phil's breath hitched in his throat, and his eyes widened as he watched. Dan dipped his head and wrapped his lips around the crown, looking up at Phil with curious brown eyes. A small gasp left Phil's mouth, and he pressed his back against the wall to support himself. “Shit,” he inhaled deeply, “It's been a while since I've received a blowjob.”

Dan furrowed his eyebrows, looking slightly angry, and sucked gently, his tongue teasingly flicking over the slit and circling it. He pulled back a little and flattened his tongue on the underside of his cock, taking him back into his mouth with extraordinary ease. He slathered Phil's cock with saliva and bobbed his head, sucking the head. Phil was able to notice the inexperience in Dan's movements, and it was obvious that he was trying to imitate someone, but it didn't bother Phil. His thoughts were all over the place, and his feelings overwhelmed him. His eyes fell shut, and he bit back a groan. “Jesus, this is–” He panted shakily. “Ugh.”

Dan pulled back, and Phil's cock popped out of his mouth. “Instinct,” he announced proudly. Spit fell out of his pink lips and found Phil's leaking cock. Dan's fingers curled around the base and gripped gently as he sunk down on his cock, taking it into his sinfully soft, wet mouth. His lips stretched tight around his cock, and his cheeks swelled with the thickness of Phil's erection. Phil threw his head back and let out a gruff moan. His toes curled against the cold tiles, and the pleasure he felt was almost terrifying. “Fuck, Dan,” he choked out in a hoarse voice. His fingers tangled in Dan's hair, gripping shakily. “You're so–” He groaned. “Amazing.”

Dan flushed, and he peered up at Phil through his long eyelashes, his eyes vivid under the canopy of dark brown hair. He looked pleased by the praise, and his pace increased. His movements turned quick and his head bobbed. Phil's grip on his hair tightened, and he bucked his hips with a groan, panting heavily. He was standing on the edge of it, and he needed just a small push. His body was burning hot everywhere, and the sensation of intense arousal in his stomach was unbearable.

Phil looked down with wide eyes, and saw Dan's beautiful face. He was standing on his knees for Phil, glimmering wings spread out, cheeks flushed and hair messed up from Phil's grip. His pink lips were wrapped around his cock, and there was a trickle of saliva running down his chin. Phil's heart skipped a beat, and he could hear the blood rushing to his ears. Dan removed his hand from the base of his cock and grasped his thighs, sinking down all the way. It happened only for a split second but it was enough.

Phil groaned and bucked his hips, spilling his seed into Dan's mouth with a rough pant. Dan pulled away quickly and gagged, coughing violently into his hands. He spat out the cum and heaved roughly, wiping the saliva and cum off his chin. He panted heavily, sitting on the wet floor, his whole face red with exertion.

Phil's knees wobbled, and he slipped down to the floor, breathing harshly. Dan wheezed and coughed uncomfortably next to him. “You didn't have to go that far,” Phil conveyed huskily in a rough voice, “It's your first time.”

Dan breathed deeply, and it took several long minutes for him to stop heaving from the effort. When he had regained his composure, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He pulled his knees to his chest and pouted, covering himself with his wings and forming a cocoon around himself. “I just wanted to make you feel good,” he revealed and sulked angrily.

Phil's gaze softened. “Yeah. I know,” he admitted, “It was great. It felt really good.”

Dan blinked and peered through a small gap between his wings. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed with a smile, “It was awesome.”

Dan let go of his wings and grinned. “Okay.” He moved closer happily and wrapped his arms around Phil. “Hug.”

Phil smiled fondly and held him lazily. “Yeah.”

~*~

Phil awoke restlessly with a sudden jolt, his eyes droopy with sleep as he stared up at the ceiling in discomfort. The atmosphere in the room was ominous and eerily silent, and he squinted his eyes to see through the absurd darkness around him. Drowsily, he blinked to acquire clarity, but his vision was blurry and unreliable. His left hand patted the bedside table, searching through the messy clutter for his glasses. He picked it up hastily and put it on with a shaky hand. There was something massively heavy on top of his body, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Dan,” he huffed incredulously, “What are you doing?”

Dan was straddling his hips, sitting on his thighs with a dazed, almost dreamy look on his face. His eyes were half-open and glazed over, but his wings were outstretched and intimidating. It didn't look soft either; it looked dangerous and sharp. “You . . .” Dan slurred.

Phil furrowed his eyebrows, glancing at his pointy wings. “Dan,” he murmured cautiously, “Lower your wings.”

Dan's movements were sluggish, and he raised his right hand in the air. “Who . . . are you?” he spat drowsily, clenching his raised hand into a fist, as if he were holding a knife, ready to stab. He looked barely awake and confused. “Where am I?”

Phil's eyes widened, and he sat up quickly, gripping Dan's hand and bringing it down gently back to his lap. He scooted back to adjust his position and cupped Dan's cheeks. “Hey,” he whispered, “Dan.” He held Dan's hand tightly in his own. “It's just a dream.”

Dan's eyelids drooped, and his head almost dropped to his chest. “Castle . . .” Dan mumbled incomprehensibly, “I . . . go back . . . monster . . . ”

Phil frowned in concern and held Dan's face in his hands. “Wake up, Dan.” Not knowing what to do, he leaned in and pressed a delicate kiss on his lips. “Wake up, baby. It's a dream,” he whispered comfortingly.

Dan didn't move, and Phil patted his cheeks. “Dan, hey,” he said worriedly, “Dan.”

Dan's eyelids fluttered slowly, and the misty cloud in his eyes disappeared promptly. Phil squeezed his face affectionately. “You're okay. It's a dream,” he reassured silently.

Dan's eyes opened, and he blinked repeatedly, staring at Phil in surprise and looking down at his position. “What–” He frowned confusedly, “What are you doing?”

Phil rolled his eyes, but he felt relieved. “What are _you_ doing, you idiot?” he retorted, “You were sleep-talking.”

Dan blinked and frowned. “I was?”

Phil huffed but nodded. “Yeah,” he mumbled quietly, wrapping his arms around Dan's waist and pulling him into a hug. “You scared me.”

“Oh,” Dan circled his arms around Phil's neck. “I'm sorry,” he said against Phil's shoulder, his voice muffled. “Bad dream.”

“It's okay,” Phil answered genuinely and pulled back. “Are you alright?”

Dan nodded. “I feel fine.”

“Are you sure?” Phil asked worriedly. “Do you want anything? Water? Tea? Are you hungry?”

Dan shook his head. “No, I'm okay.” He wrapped his arms tightly around Phil. “Cuddle?”

Phil smiled slightly. “Okay. Let's go back to sleep then,” he suggested solemnly and removed his glasses, placing it back on the table.

Dan nodded and shuffled away to his spot on the bed, lying down in silence. Phil looked at the back of Dan's head and smiled, wrapping an arm around his waist. He pulled Dan to his chest, and Dan scooted back against him comfortably, sighing softly. Phil's nose was in Dan's hair, and he placed a kiss on his head, bending his head to pepper Dan's nape with reassuring kisses. Dan stilled. “Phil,” he mumbled sleepily, “What are you doing?”

“I don't know,” he whispered truthfully, “Comforting you?”

“Oh.” Dan nodded. “Okay.” He placed his arm over Phil's hand and squeezed it contently. “It feels nice.”

“Mm,” Phil mumbled, closing his eyes in satisfaction. This was the first time he had felt so completely comfortable and close to another person. The intimacy of the fragile moment tugged at his heartstrings and made him release a contented sigh. It felt peaceful and natural to be with Dan, to touch him, kiss him. He felt like he belonged with Dan, near him, next to him, and there was no other place in the world that he wanted to be. He loved the simplicity of the present moment. The connection and attraction they felt towards each other . . . he loved it dearly. He was overly aware of the fact that it would all come to an end very soon, and he quietly dreaded that day.


	28. Just one week

Initially, Phil had tried and refrained himself from getting attached to Dan. From the very beginning, he knew nothing good would come out of a forbidden friendship between them. Even after all of his immense efforts, he had inevitably formed a strong bond with Dan. Being with him was so unbelievably peaceful, familiar and comfortable that he had forgotten all of his original plans. Every day was a new, blissful adventure, and before he had realized, before he could stop and think, another week had gone by.

Dan was now perfectly healthy, energetic and strong. He had become an unforgettable presence in his home. He had somehow become an unremovable part of his life. Phil's home was no longer his own, and the proof of Dan's existence was everywhere. No matter how many times Phil cleaned his apartment, Dan's black feathers still ended up stuck under the sofa, or on top of the shelves. Every single one of his friends knew about his aversion to sweets and sugar, but now there were chocolates and toffees and biscuits everywhere. It littered the kitchen counter and lay strewn on the coffee table for everyone to see.

After learning about online shopping last week, Dan had bought a mound of things. In just a few days, he had gathered an entire mountain of little, stuffed penguins and collected batches of different lip gloss which also lay scattered here and there in the living room and bedroom. Phil had tried to talk him out of buying random products out of curiosity, but Dan was using his own money, and his bright grin had the capability to melt Phil's irritation. In the end, Phil always went along with it. The ultimate result was that his plain, empty-looking apartment had now turned into a colourful, cosy home. His apartment was barely recognisable.

During all of the chaos and precious moments of happiness, Phil forced himself to forget about the fact that Dan was a temporary guest. He had grown to care for Dan in a way he had never cared about anyone, and he was afraid of letting it go. He was trying to stretch their time together as far as he possibly could. Dan looked like he had forgotten about leaving, and Phil was hoping for some kind of miracle to happen, something that would show everyone in the world that Dan wasn't dangerous. He knew it was hopeless to wish for something impossible, but he couldn't help but dream about it.

Phil sighed quietly and snapped out of his thoughts, placing Anthony's mug of coffee on the dining table. Dan was sitting on the counter, swinging his legs and munching on a chocolate bar happily. Phil huffed at him with a smile and glanced back quickly to check on Anthony. He had gone to the bathroom and hadn't come back yet. Phil took that opportunity and leaned to the side, stealing a small kiss abruptly and making Dan blush in surprise. Phil smiled, and Dan held up the chocolate bar. Phil took a bite swiftly and moved back. “Too sweet,” he grimaced as he chewed.

Dan grinned brightly. “That's why I like–”

“Phil, what the hell is this?” Anthony asked in utter confusion, walking into the kitchen with a disturbed look on his face. Phil turned around and immediately raised his eyebrows at the stuffed penguins in Anthony's arms.

“My penguins!” Dan gasped, jumping to the floor with wide eyes. “Give it back!”

“Penguins?” Anthony frowned, holding up a cheap, weirdly shaped one. “It looks like Satan shat it out of his ass.”

Dan glared at him angrily. “You're vile,” he stated, stepping towards Anthony to take them back. He blinked and stopped at a distance, biting his lip. “Give it back.” He turned to Phil to complain. “Phil, he's taking my penguins!”

“I'm not _taking_ them!” Anthony sighed exasperatedly and placed them on the chair. “What the fuck would I do with these ugly little things?” he countered tartly, dropping to a chair and taking a sip of his coffee.

“Penguins are not ugly!” Dan protested with a dark glare, grabbing a small, cute one from the heap and sliding back onto the kitchen counter. He hugged it close and sat quietly, staring at Anthony angrily from a distance. “ _You_ are ugly!”

Phil observed the interaction with an affectionate smile on his face and unconsciously walked towards him, pulling his hands towards him and silently rolling up his long sleeves. Dan blinked in surprise at the abrupt action but smiled at him gratefully. He turned back to Anthony when he was done and found him watching them curiously. Anthony narrowed his eyes at them suspiciously, and Phil gulped, stepping away quickly.

“Where did you get this stuff from?” Anthony asked with a frown.

“Online,” Phil disclosed as a matter of fact, handing Dan's cup of tea to him. “Dan bought it.”

Anthony raised his eyebrows curiously. “With your money?”

“No, with his money,” he clarified with a sigh, taking a long sip from his cup.

“What?” Anthony blinked in confusion. “His money? Wait, he has money? I thought he was homeless.”

“No, he has a cabin,” Phil blurted absently, observing his chipped nails.

“Cabin?” Anthony narrowed his eyes doubtfully. “I thought he was staying with you because he had nowhere else to go. Did you lie to me?”

Phil flinched and looked up. “Uh, no,” he admitted quickly, “I wasn't lying. I didn't know.”

Anthony's expression turned sour. “Then . . . did _he_ lie to you?”

“No,” Phil snapped.

“It doesn't make sense!” Anthony retorted confusedly. “If he has money, he can just go to the village and buy food and blood from the Organization. He has no reason to starve. You said he was starving and living on the streets.”

Phil sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen, I don't know. Dan told me that food is delivered to his cabin, but I only saw fruits. There was nothing else. I don't think it's possible to survive on fruits.”

Anthony arched an eyebrow. “You saw?”

“Uh, I mean, he told me,” Phil corrected quickly. Anthony's face looked conflicted and unconvinced. Phil nervously glanced back at Dan who was sitting quietly on the counter with stiff shoulders, deliberately avoiding any participation in the conversation. “Look, I think he fought with his parents or something like that. He never talks about it.”

“Why?” Anthony inquired curiously, sitting back and arching an eyebrow. “Something just isn't adding up here, Phil.”

“Like I said, I don't know!” Phil admitted quietly, “He doesn't want to talk about it, and I don't want to force him. It doesn't matter. I don't care who he is, or where he is from. I only care about the present him.”

Anthony stared at Phil with narrowed eyes, looking at him in silence for a long time. He crossed his arms across his chest and scrutinized Phil with an odd, unreadable expression on his face. Phil avoided his eyes nervously and drank his tea quietly, sitting rigidly. After what felt like hours of unpleasant, almost painful silence, Anthony unfolded his hands unhurriedly and huffed petulantly. He turned to Dan with a solemn look. “Dan,” he uttered in a loud voice, “Can I talk to Phil for a second?”

Dan furrowed his eyebrows in perplexity but nodded in understanding. “Okay,” he conceded without protest. He jumped to the floor and dusted his back carefully, looking up at Anthony. There was a slight hesitation on his face, and he bit his lip nervously before adding, “Do you want to play chess?”

Anthony blinked at the unexpected question but to Phil's utter surprise, he gave Dan a genuine smile. “Yeah, sure,” he agreed cheerfully and gazed down at his wristwatch, “I have patrol duty later tonight, but I'm free all day.”

Dan nodded happily and grinned brightly, turning around and walking out of the kitchen. Phil's gaze followed him as he left, snapping back to Anthony when he couldn't see Dan anymore. “What?” he asked bluntly with a sigh.

Anthony leaned back comfortably and crossed his arms over his chest again, his expression morphing from friendly to extremely grim. “When is he leaving?” he asked sombrely, cutting straight to the chase.

Phil was already expecting the question, but it managed to startle him nonetheless. “He will–er, soon,” he stumbled over his words dumbly, swallowing anxiously.

Anthony narrowed his eyes doubtfully, staring at Phil with a serious look on his face. “Phil, do you know what you're doing?”

Phil chewed on his bottom lip. “Honestly? No.”

Anthony rolled his eyes with a snort. “Right,” he sighed tiredly, “Of course.”

Phil frowned at the disappointed look in Anthony's eyes and exhaled slowly, carding his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Look, Anthony–”

“You fucking idiot! You're taking all of this way too lightly,” Anthony hissed in anger, leaning forward to glare at Phil. “Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?”

“Yes,” Phil admitted with a frown. “I do.” He closed his eyes and sighed irritably. “I do, okay?”

“Phil, he's been living with you for more than three months,” Anthony hissed in annoyance. “His wings are fine. He's no longer sick. He's perfectly fine. He has no reason to stay here. You promised me that you would–”

“I know!” Phil exclaimed loudly, and Anthony blinked. Phil's heart sank slowly, and he felt like there was a gaping hole opening up in his chest. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Look, I'll talk to him about it, okay? I will. Soon. I promise.”

Phil breathed deeply to control his emotions which were dead set on overwhelming him. He stared emptily at the table, not knowing what to do. He could feel Anthony's stare drilling a hole into his skull, and he looked up with a deep, exasperating sigh. “What?”

Anthony lowered his gaze to his mug, looking at the last remnants of his coffee in silence for a while. “I get it,” he murmured truthfully. “I can see that you like him.” Phil's eyes widened in disbelief, and his heart thudded furiously. “He seems quite attached to you too.” Anthony looked up sorrowfully. “To be completely honest, I like playing chess with him. I don't mind being friends with him. I want him to stay too. I wish it could happen, but–”

_Oh._ Phil exhaled slowly and relaxed his shoulders in relief. Suddenly, Anthony let out a frustrated groan. “Ah, fuck.” He scratched his scalp. “Don't ever fucking tell Dan I said that!” he threatened with a glare. “Just forget it.”

“Thanks,” he stated gratefully, “Really. Thank you. You know, you've always been–”

“Oh, please don't fucking say that I'm a great friend or some cheesy shit like that,” Anthony groaned, “I don't want to hear it.” Phil smiled nostalgically, and Anthony rolled his eyes. A few minutes of peaceful silence passed, and Anthony began seriously, “Look, my point is that he can't stay here. It's dangerous. Not just for you and me, but for Dan as well. He could get hurt too.”

Phil bit his lip in silence, and Anthony went on, “Besides, it's a little weird. He has money, but he won't go to the village. Something is going on here that we're not understanding. Dan's not being honest about a lot of things, and that's a gigantic red flag to stay the fuck away from him,” he explained with a sad look in his eyes. “I admit that I don't think he's a bad person, but there's something odd about him, and you know it. You can't hide him here forever, Phil. You know that. He has to leave.”

“One week,” Phil bargained desperately, “Give me one week. One more week, Anthony.”

“Phil–”

“Please!” Phil cut in sharply with a pleading look in his eyes. “Just one week. He has lived here for almost three months, and no one has noticed yet. What's one more week going to do? Please, give me one week.”

Anthony looked conflicted, and he stared at Phil for the longest time. Finally, he sighed and rubbed his neck. “Alright,” he relented with a huff. “Fine. Just one week.”

Phil let out a sigh of relief and gave Anthony a grateful look. “Thank you.”

~*~

“Did you turn off the lights in the bathroom?” Phil asked Dan with narrowed eyes as soon as he walked out of the bathroom. “You forgot it three times this week.”

Dan nodded wordlessly and climbed in next to him with an exhausted yawn. The bedroom was dark, and it was close to midnight, but for some reason, Phil didn't feel sleepy or tired. He folded his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling in silence. Minutes went by slowly, and he felt Dan's arm around his chest, cuddling against his side. Warmth spread through his heart, flowing like water throughout his body. His chest fluttered, and he wanted to smile, but he couldn't. All he could do was grimace sorrowfully when a stabbing pain in his chest replaced the warmth.

There was a lump in his throat, and he swallowed it with difficulty, biting his lip quietly. Dan seemed to notice the stiffness of his shoulders and the irregular rhythm of his chest. He looked up cautiously with a kind, concerned look on his face. “Phil,” he whispered with a frown, poking Phil's cheek with his forefinger. “What's wrong?”

Phil shook his head. “Nothing,” he whispered in a weak voice.

Dan frowned. “You look sad.”

“I'm okay,” he answered forcefully. “Go to sleep.”

Dan stared at him for a few minutes, staying quiet. Phil closed his eyes soundlessly, pretending to sleep so Dan would stop being concerned. It didn't have the effect he was hoping for. Suddenly, Dan sat up with a frown, causing him to open his eyes in confusion. He furrowed his eyebrows and watched Dan curiously. With a look of determination on his face, Dan hurled a leg over his waist and straddled his hips, placing his palms on his stomach and staring down at Phil. “Why are you sad?” he asked stubbornly.

Phil arched his eyebrows, and his fears slowly melted away. Dan's adorable actions made him forget his predicament, and he gave Dan a small smile. “I'm not,” he whispered softly, “I'm okay now. Don't worry.”

Dan blinked doubtfully. “Really?”

Phil sat up slowly, adjusting his position and crossing his legs under Dan. He slid his hands around Dan's waist, and their foreheads touched lightly. Phil stared at his pink lips in silence, unable to look away. 

Dan stared at him, cupping his face. “What?”

Phil shook his head. “Nothing,” he whispered in a small voice and connected their lips. He wrapped his arms tighter around Dan's waist, and he could feel the warmth of Dan's palms on his face. Comfort flowed into Phil through his fingertips. His heart immediately calmed and he relaxed completely, losing himself in the taste of Dan's lips. His mind almost felt hazy, like he was in a dream, and he couldn't see the background. He didn't want this to end. He didn't know how to stop Dan from leaving, or how to make him stay when he knew it wasn't safe. The thought hovered over his head like a deadly threat, squeezing every bit of his hope out of him.

“Dan, you . . .” he murmured in a vulnerable voice when he pulled back. “You're . . .” Hesitation. It was always there. Phil had always been this way. He had always faltered during the most crucial moments of his life. “Y-you're very important to me.”

Dan smiled and placed their foreheads together, his hands still holding Phil's face. “I know,” he whispered back in a happy, carefree tone. “I can tell.”

Phil nodded. “Yeah.”

“Is something bothering you?” Dan asked in a guarded voice. 

Phil averted his gaze. “It's nothing. It's just . . .” His arms wrapped tighter around Dan's waist. “Can you . . . can you tell me about your family?”

Dan blinked and faltered. “F-family?”

Phil stopped for a second to find the right words. “I don't know anything about you.” It wasn't what he wanted to ask, but he didn't know how else to bring it up. He didn't want Dan to get the wrong idea. He didn't want Dan to think Phil had feelings for him or . . . or something . . . “Where is your real home? How–uh–how can I see you after this?”

“After this?” Dan tilted his head in complete puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

Phil blinked in surprise, and his insecurities resurfaced instantly. Dan looked genuinely confused, and Phil immediately realised that Dan probably had no intention of seeing Phil ever again. That had to be it. Dan hadn't discussed anything about it, and it made sense. Dan had always been unbelievably considerate and kind. He would never bring it up and deliberately upset Phil, but it was foolish to think that a winged man would want to stay in contact with a human. Why would he want to risk his life again to meet Phil? Phil's heart sank, and his throat was oddly tight. He let go of Dan and ignored his concerned gaze. 

“Phil . . .” Dan whispered with a frown.

“I . . . I need some tea,” he announced quietly, turning away from Dan. He stood up and headed to the door without looking back. “You don't need to wait for me. Good night,” he whispered before closing the door behind him. There was nothing left to talk about. Absolutely nothing.


	29. Hunters are coming

“I give up. I'm not going to teach you anymore,” Phil huffed in exasperation, his legs dangling in the air as he held onto Dan as tightly as he could. Dan's wings fluttered behind him, but the movements slowed down considerably as his apartment building came into view. He cautiously swooped down to Phil's bedroom window, and Phil clung to him, looking over his shoulder at the ground below. Dan zoomed closer to the window frames and carefully lowered Phil. Phil let go of Dan and jumped inside, holding out a hand. “We're never going to the Midnight Lake again.”

Dan's feet touched the floor gracefully, and his wings stopped fluttering slowly. “Why?” he frowned with a confused tilt of his head.

“You don't even step in the water,” Phil complained in displeasure and turned away, frowning in confusion. “What time is it?” he wondered aloud. They had left in a hurry due to Dan's insistence, and he had accidentally forgotten to take his phone with him. “We spent too much time at the lake. You didn't even swim.”

Phil grabbed his phone off the table to check the time. Dan flopped back to the bed and stretched his limbs, scattering small feathers on the pillow. Phil smiled at his relaxed position and looked down at the black screen of his smartphone. It lit up instantly with sudden vibration, and Phil gazed down in confusion. His heart throbbed immediately, and he blinked in shock. “Forty-seven missed calls from Anthony . . .” he mumbled with wide, startled eyes. “What the fuck. He should be on duty toni–”

Dan sat up quickly. “What's wrong?”

Phil frowned. “Nothing. It's probably nothing but . . . ” Phil swiped his thumb across the screen and pressed his phone to his ear. His pulse was increasing rapidly, and the ringing noise boomed in his ears. He turned to face Dan with a reassuring smile. “It's just Anthony.”

Dan stared at him strangely. “Did something happen?”

Phil swallowed harshly, stepping towards the bed quietly. He circled his free arm around Dan's neck and hugged him closely, waiting for Anthony to pick up his phone. “Don't worry,” he assured softly, “He called me on my phone a few times, and I'm just wondering why. He should be working, but maybe he's not. He's probably just drunk or something.”

Dan's arms squeezed him. “Okay.”

Phil looked down at his phone, calling Anthony again. “He isn't picking up for some reason,” he mumbled against Dan's shoulder absently, pulling back with a frown. “It's fine. Maybe he's already asleep–”

“Phil,” Dan muttered, “Someone's knocking on the door.”

Phil's heart jumped, and he looked up from his phone with his heart in his throat, straining his ears to hear the sound. There were dull, repeated knocks on the door, and Phil glanced back at his phone with a panicked glance. The wheels of his brain turned, and his thoughts were slowly organizing themselves, checking and rechecking facts and possibilities. His hands slightly trembled, and he stared at the date on his phone with terrified eyes, his breaths heavy and stilted.

Anthony had Thursdays and Fridays off, but it was almost midnight on a Monday night, and Anthony was most certainly on patrol duty. Hunters needed to be constantly on guard and using Mobile phones on duty was very rarely allowed. There was absolutely no way Anthony would call him _Forty-seven_ times without a significant reason. His heart pounded in his chest, and fear crept into his bones. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, stepping to the door. “Dan,” he ordered in a solemn voice. “Hide. Don't come out until I tell you to.”

Dan blinked from the bed, his relaxed position turning rigid immediately. “Is something wrong?” he repeated in concern.

“Probably not,” Phil guessed with a deep breath, trying to turn his thought processes from negative to optimistic. There was a pit of uneasiness in the bottom of his stomach, a strong, intense feeling—an instinct, maybe—in his gut, slowly simmering deep inside him. He couldn't ignore it. “But someone's at the door, and it's definitely not Anthony.”

“It's not Anthony?” Dan asked with wide, slightly terror-filled eyes.

“No.” Phil stalked to the door in determination, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “Anthony's on duty tonight. It can't be PJ. He should be with Anthony.” His mind turned as he crossed out different possibilities. “Louise won't come here at this time of the night. It's . . . maybe, it's Chris. No, he doesn't go outside at night. Fuck.” He didn't look at Dan. “Just wait here. Hide. I'll handle it.”

Phil walked out swiftly without looking back and closed the door behind him, making his way to the front door. He turned on all the lights on the way, making it easy to see around the dark space. Phil usually had no way to know who it was on the other side of the door, but to avoid opening the door to an enemy, they had created a code. Phil stared at the door with narrowed eyes, lifting his hand. If it was Anthony, he would know what to do. Deciding to try, he knocked on the door twice and heard four knocks in return. He knocked two times and heard one loud knock in return. Phil's eyes widened and relief flooded his veins.

It was Anthony.

Phil opened the door confidently, breathing deeply. “Anthony, you scared–”

“Phil!” Anthony shouted, rushing inside and slamming the door shut behind him. He was wearing his heavy uniform, fully equipped with gadgets and small devices, including a gun strapped to his waist. He was holding a specialized, non-lethal tranquilliser gun in his hand, and Phil's eyes widened in shock. “Phil, they're coming!”

Phil's breaths stuttered, words dying in his throat. The small pit of fear turned into a gaping void in his stomach, consuming him. “What . . . what do you mean?” he choked out in terror. “This is . . . it's too sudden . . .”

“Someone reported you—well, not you specifically. Someone reported seeing a winged man through the window a few hours ago,” Anthony croaked fearfully, carding a shaky hand through his hair. “They're searching the whole building. Hunters. We just arrived. They're downstairs right now. I slipped quietly when no one was looking—I tried to call you, but–”

“I forgot my phone. I–” Phil panted heavily, and his thoughts were scattered and a jumbled mess. His breaths quickened, and all he felt was a deep regret and guilt. If Hunters arrested Dan, or–or shot him, he didn't know what he would do or how he would react. If only he hadn't forgotten his phone. f only he hadn't gone out at all. If only–

“Hey.” Anthony gripped his shoulders tightly, his eyes solemn and staring at Phil in sympathy. “Calm down,” he advised in a shaky voice. “Calm down. You're on the third floor. They're searching every room one by one. It'll take a while. There's still time,” he exclaimed in detail, squeezing Phil's shoulder. “They're not taking it seriously. The report was made by an old lady who has a long history of making random calls for no reason. Most of the Hunters downstairs are newbies. PJ, Ethan, James, Dora and a few others. Do you understand?”

Phil nodded shakily, and his mind was full of memories he had made with Dan. Adrenaline was surging through his body like a drug, and a fierce protectiveness washed over him like giant waves. “Yes.”

“Hide him,” Anthony suggested weakly, swallowing anxiously. “Make up a believable lie, a plan. There's nothing else we can do. They are keeping watch on the windows. Don't let him go outside.”

Anthony let go of him and whirled around swiftly. “I need to go back.”

Phil's heart pounded violently, and he wasn't sure if it was truly happening or if it was all a terrible nightmare, something his useless brain had cooked up to distress him. “Anthony!” he called in a panic, feeling so petrified and hysterical that he wanted to vomit. He swallowed painfully and blurted the question that was weighing heavily on his mind, “What's the usual procedure?” He stared at Anthony with wide, fretful eyes, waiting impatiently. “What will happen if Dan gets discovered?”

“Shot on the spot,” Anthony responded without missing a beat, his hand clenching around the doorknob. “If . . . if a winged man is found outside, he's usually arrested.” Anthony stopped and hesitated, but took a deep breath and revealed in a quiet voice, “A fake report is written which is filled with fake, uncommitted crimes, and the winged man is handed over to the higher-ups.”

Phil's eyes widened, and he saw Anthony's jaw clench in anger. “In this case, there'll be no leniency. He won't be getting a second chance. He's inside the building, and that'll be considered a direct threat.”

“Fuck,” Phil breathed shakily, clenching his hands into tight fists. His heart sank like never before, and his knees trembled. Dan was harmless. He was kind, selfless, thoughtful and the most vulnerable person Phil had ever seen. He always had a smile on his face, and his gentle brown eyes were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. No matter how much he tried to understand the cruelty humans showed to such majestic creatures, he couldn't understand it. It just wasn't fair!

“Hide him,” Anthony commanded aloud, opening the door hastily. “I have to go. Hide him and hope for the best!” he said over his shoulder as he ran down the hallway.

Phil stared at the door in disorientation for a few, agonizing moments, regretting every single mistake he had made that ultimately resulted in this predicament. With a deep, shaky breath, Phil slammed the door shut and locked it with a small _click._ His heart was thumping against his chest so hard that he could feel the rush of blood on his fingertips. He clenched his jaw tightly and dashed haphazardly between the furniture around the room. He tripped over a cushion but it didn't impede his resolution. He opened the door hurriedly and rushed to Dan.

“Dan!” he blurted in panic, his hand shooting out to grab Dan's arm. His perturbed eyes were already sweeping across the room for a safe, inconspicuous place to hide, a place no one would bother to check. “You need to hide. They're–Hunters are searching the building.”

Dan blinked in shock, and his eyes widened, startled beyond belief. “What?” he asked with unsettled eyes.

“I–I don't know,” Phil admitted sincerely, squeezing Dan's arm and biting his lip. “Fuck. I'm sorry, I–even though I promised you I would protect you–”

“No.” Dan shook his head sadly. “Don't apologize. It's not your fault.”

Phil swallowed painfully and stared at Dan for a few quiet moments. With his heart in his throat, he jumped forward and tackled him into a tight hug. Dan held him back tightly, and Phil's heart sank to the very bottom of his stomach. His thought processes were fast and quick as lightning, rushing by one after another. He racked his brains for a safe spot to keep Dan out of sight. The design and layout of his apartment lay sprawled in his mind, but he couldn't find a single place where Dan would be safe. They would search everywhere, every single nook and corner . . . bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom–

Phil blinked repeatedly and pulled back in a hurry, staring at Dan with wide eyes, a plan—unreliable, but worth a try—taking shape in his mind. “Take off your clothes,” he commanded hastily, hands already tugging Dan's T-shirt. “Take it off. Quick.”

Dan frowned in confusion. “What? Why?”

“The shower, Dan!” he explained loudly, “Get in the shower!”

Dan furrowed his eyebrows incredulously. “It's almost 1 a.m.”

Phil scrambled back in a rush and stomped quickly to his bedside drawer, dipping his hand inside and rummaging through it rashly. “Dan, please,” he croaked hurriedly, “Do as I say. Get in the shower. Lock the door.” The moment he found what he was looking for, he turned around and pulled the bedsheets, messing it up as much as he could. He placed the condoms on top of the pillow. “People usually don't want to invade someone's privacy.”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip nervously but nodded. “Okay,” he agreed, grabbing the hem of his T-shirt with shaky fingers and taking it off. Phil took his clothes from Dan's hands and tossed it to the floor, breathing deeply in satisfaction. He turned back to Dan, looking him up and down. “Alright.” He nodded approvingly, moving towards the closet. “Look, stand under the water, okay? Don't pretend. Just take a long shower like you usually do.”

Dan nodded in understanding, and Phil bit his lip nervously, sifting through his closet and pulling out his old, fluffy handcuffs. He walked back and placed it on the bed, making it as noticeable as possible. “If they ask you to come out, wrap a towel around your torso and shrink your wings. Don't let them see your wings, and you'll be fine. They know you're naked underneath so they probably won't ask you to take it off.” he explained carefully, taking a deep breath. “Do you understand?”

Dan chewed on his bottom lip nervously, and he looked disturbed. “This . . . this is a terrible idea . . . but okay.”

Phil nodded absently, grabbing Dan's littered feathers from the bed and shoving them into his pockets instead. “I'm going to check the living room for feathers, okay? You need to stay in the shower,” he shouted over his shoulder before running out of the bedroom.

~*~

“Hello,” Theodora greeted in a professional tone as soon as Phil fully opened the door. He swallowed awkwardly and glanced back at the group of Hunters standing behind her, including Anthony and PJ. They were dressed in their official uniform, each one of them holding a dangerous firearm. Theodora was standing in front of him, her gun strapped to her waist and a clipboard and pen in her hands. “I'm terribly sorry for showing up this late at night, but this is for your safety.”

Thankfully, Phil didn't need to pretend to be shocked. His eyes were already wide with fear. “What–what's wrong? What's going on?” he asked hastily.

“You're Phil Lester, right?” Theodora asked in a patient tone.

“I, Er, yes,” he blurted awkwardly, his nerves making him stumble. “I'm Phil Lester.”

Theodora nodded. “You may not be aware, but Mrs Brown who lives in this building made a call a few hours ago. She reported seeing a winged man leave this building,” Dora stated in a calm, monotonous voice, flipping her pink hair back from her shoulders. Her long manicured nails held the pen tightly, and she tapped it against the clipboard in boredom. “It is likely that he's not in the building anymore. This is just a routine search, and there is absolutely no reason to panic. We just want to make sure everything's okay.”

“Oh,” Phil murmured in a meek voice, clenching his trembling hands into tight fists. “You want to search my home?”

Theodora raised an eyebrow haughtily. “Yes. Thank you for understanding.” 

Phil swallowed pathetically. He remembered meeting Dora two months ago at the celebration party in Anthony's house, but her behaviour and mannerisms from then were completely different. At the time, she had appeared to be a little dim-witted and goofy, with a carefree, happy-go-lucky kind of personality, but she wasn't who Phil initially thought she was. It was almost like her entire personality had flipped on its head. “Okay. Go ahead,” he managed to answer in a confident voice. “I don't mind.”

Dora nodded solemnly, pursing her glossy, lipstick covered lips. “Good,” she enunciated thoughtfully and turned over the pages on her clipboard. Phil's timid gaze flicked over her shoulder at the other members who were chatting quietly in hushed voices, standing back and letting Dora handle the official talking business. “You live alone, correct?” She looked up from her clipboard to confirm. “Is there someone else in there? A friend? Lover? Relatives?”

“Yes,” he responded and added in a hesitant voice, “Uh, my boyfriend is here right now.” 

Dora nodded smartly, completely unruffled. “Can he come to the door? We need to confirm the number of people in the building for safety reasons.”

Phil's heart raced quickly, and his throat closed up in fear. He briefly glanced at Anthony who stared back at him, mouthing something he couldn't understand. His eyes darted back to Dora's curious face and blurted, “Er, he can't. He's taking a bath.”

Theodora raised her eyebrows elegantly. “A bath? At this time?”

Phil masked his fear with his actions. He scratched his neck awkwardly in embarrassment and avoided her sharp gaze. “We weren't asleep. We sleep late. We were, er . . . you know. We were having a date.”

Dora blinked. “Oh,” she nodded. “Understandable. I apologize.” She turned the clipboard and extended it towards him, tapping her pen on a small blank space at the bottom. “I need you to sign here. It says that you approve the search.”

Phil grasped the pen hastily and signed his name, handing it back when he was done. “Thank you for your cooperation,” she told him in a bored voice, flipping through the pages, her concentration focused on the clipboard. “Ethan. James,” she commanded without looking up, startling them both. They nodded without a moment of hesitation.

Phil moved aside to give them space, and quietly stood next to the wall as Ethan and James entered his living room. He turned to Dora and saw her frown, scribbling something down on the page. “PJ. Anthony,” she called next, and both of them followed suit.

“We'll check the bedrooms,” PJ announced before disappearing around the corner.

“The rest of you stay with me,” Dora ordered absently.

Phil's body was frozen with terror as he stood next to the wall with wide blue eyes, surveying everything that was unfolding in front of him. Ethan was searching through the shelf and inspecting the area under the sofa. James had gone straight to the kitchen, and he could hear the sound of clattering utensils and rustling packets of snacks. His fear and his undeniable affection towards Dan shackled and bound him to the wall. He couldn't move. He couldn't help but stare in absolute terror. 

One black feather . . . one black feather could end Dan's life, and no matter how much effort he put into it, every time he cleaned his apartment, every single time . . . he had _always_ found a few feathers. It was in the crease between the sofa, or under a pile of laundry, or sometimes in an unnoticed corner of the room. There were always a few feathers that he had failed to pick up. He had managed to shove most of the feathers he had seen into his pockets, but if Theodora insisted on checking his pockets . . . that would be it. It would all be over in a heartbeat. 

Phil breathed deeply and closed his eyes, telling himself to calm down. Anthony was right. Try and hope for the best. There was nothing else he could do in this situation.


	30. Desperate struggle

Phil turned and headed to the hallway, unnerved and slightly disgruntled by everything that was transpiring around him. It had been almost fifteen minutes since they started searching through his house. His entire body was shaking with terror. It was a situation he had never presumed; it was a tight spot he didn't want to be in. He had convinced himself with false hope and foolishly taken the momentary peace for granted, hoping childishly for a grand miracle to happen. He should've foreseen this. He should've known.

There was no way Dan could stay with him forever. He was suddenly hit with an overpowering sadness, and he clenched his jaw. The friendship between them was doomed from the very beginning. He should've known. He shouldn't have asked Anthony for one more week. He shouldn't have pretended to be happy. He shouldn't have tried to make memories with Dan. He shouldn't have gone to the lake. He regretted everything. He was an idiot, and this was all his fault.

“Phil,” Anthony whispered in a hushed voice, gesturing for him to come closer. Phil glanced at PJ who was checking the spare bedroom and walked closer. “Where is he?” he mouthed frightfully, eyes darting back to check on PJ.

“Shower,” Phil murmured in a barely audible voice, breathing deeply.

“Clear!” PJ announced confidently, standing up briskly and making his way towards them with a small smile on his face.

Phil jumped away from Anthony, looking up with wide eyes. PJ sidestepped him casually, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Sorry about this,” he told Phil apologetically, “I know there's nothing here, but it's my duty.”

“No, it's . . . it's fine,” Phil argued gently in a sincere voice, a large amount of guilt and grief twisting in his throat at his loyal words. “I know. Don't worry about it.”

PJ nodded with a smile and moved quietly to Phil's bedroom, opening the door without hesitation. Phil's heart thudded, and booming, thunderous beats echoed in his ears. The bathroom was attached to his bedroom, and he could hear the shrill noise of the shower. He swallowed in fear and followed PJ, hoping against hope for Dan to properly follow his instructions.

“What the–” PJ halted in his tracks, standing shell shocked near the wide-open door. His eyes widened in bafflement, and he stared back at Phil, giving him a disgusted glare. “What the hell, Phil? Are you an animal?” On an ordinary, uneventful day, Phil would've laughed or grinned at the appalled look on PJ's face, but at that moment, all he could do was attempt an awkward grimace. “Dammit. Look at this mess! Can't believe I have to search this garbage dump,” he muttered irritably. “At least, clean your room, dude. How old are you?”

Phil nodded nervously, and PJ huffed. “Is this your definition of a _date?_ ” he mumbled rhetorically under his breath, proceeding to search around the room.

Phil obediently moved aside, standing back against the wall to give him enough space to investigate. His skittish gaze followed PJ, observing him with his heartbeats ringing in his ears. He watched in trepidation as PJ peered under the bed with a frown and thoroughly scoured the closet. He stayed silent when PJ examined the small bit of area behind the table and searched through the pile of laundry on the chair. “Is your _boyfriend–_ ” PJ lifted his hands to make air quotes around the word. “–still in the shower?”

Phil nodded, and PJ glanced at him suspiciously before moving towards the bathroom. His palms itched with anxiety, and he prayed to god for some miracle to happen. His body was warm to the touch, and beads of sweat trickled down his back. His heart was palpitating, and he could feel his stress throbbing painfully in the crease between his eyebrows. _Fuck._

PJ stood in front of the door and knocked a few times, looking up at Phil. “Can he come out? I need to make sure he is who you say he is.” He let out a small sigh. “Well, knowing you, it's probably some random dude you picked up, but I still need to confirm. I'm sorry.”

Phil's body was suddenly frozen. His mouth went all dry, and he didn't know what to say. He could hear his thudding heartbeats and feel Anthony's presence near the door, but he couldn't move. “Uh, I–um . . . that's, I–” _Fuck. Fuck. Talk, Phil, talk. Say something._ “He's–he's tired. He's taking a long bath.” _Dammit._

PJ raised an eyebrow. “So? We're here to search your house, Phil. I'm not your friend right now.” PJ sidestepped him, his hand inching towards the doorknob. “I'm sorry, but I need to–”

“No!” Phil snapped in horror, shoving PJ back with trembling hands. His breaths quickened, and he knew he was panting. He was panicking. “Don't.” His throat was closing up. “Don't open the bathroom.” _Please._

PJ stumbled back in annoyance, staring at Phil in utter confusion. “What's wrong with you? I need to do my jo–” He froze completely, stilling on the spot like he had received the ultimate shock of his life. His entire body stiffened up, and his jaw fell open as he stared at something behind Phil. Before Phil could even blink, PJ sidestepped him with quick, sharp strides and crouched on the floor.

Phil turned around in fear and saw him staring at the floor with wide, disbelieving eyes. He followed PJ's line of sight and found the object of his sudden interest, his heart instantly slamming into his throat. His blood ran cold immediately, and he balled his hands into fists, sharp nails digging into his palms as he stared down at the black feather on the floor, shining brightly under Dan's T-shirt. He swallowed the terror that rose from his throat, and he heard Anthony's shocked gasp in the blurry background. “PJ, I . . .” His lips moved, but he didn't know what to say, how to explain or make him understand. “That's not . . . it's . . .”

PJ poked the feather with the tip of his finger and pulled it back with a startled gasp, staring at the bead of blood on his forefinger that slowly trickled down his palm. The sharpness of the feather had sliced his skin, and there was no other way to explain it now. No amount of lies or deceit could explain the peculiar phenomenon.

Phil stood there like a statue, unable to move or speak. Everything was happening in slow motion, and he could see everything with intense clarity. PJ's fingers trembled, and he turned his head slowly, staring at Phil with wide, shocked eyes. The intensity of betrayal, disappointment and sheer loathing in his eyes seemed insurmountable, and the last bit of hope Phil had drowned in his chest. A lump formed in his throat, and he wanted to tell him, to explain the circumstances to his best friend who had helped him countless times, but he couldn't. He couldn't do anything other than stand and stare.

Loud footsteps and muffled chatter invaded the tense, unbearable silence in the room, making Phil's eyes widen in horror and pain. He flinched and panted heavily, feeling an intense, powerful fear overcoming his senses. It was over. Everything was over. They would find and arrest Dan. Anthony would lose his job, and he didn't know what would happen to him. Phil would lose Dan, and he would never see his smiling face. He would never be able to hear his cute laugh ever again. He–

“All clear!” PJ shouted loudly, grabbing Dan's discarded T-shirt off the floor and throwing it over the feather. He stood up and turned around to face Phil, his jaw clenched in anger and indignation.

Phil blinked repeatedly in utter shock, and for one excruciating second, he couldn't process what had happened. It was almost as if he had lost his cognitive function spontaneously. Confusion, gratefulness, relief . . . everything mixed together and flooded his stressed mind. He swallowed the painful lump in his throat and looked back at PJ who was staring at him furiously. His eyes were sharp and knowing, full of anger and bitterness. Phil could see it clearly in the clench of his jaw and the furrow of his brows. The intensity of it made him tremble deep down to his bones, and an unfathomable amount of shame cut him to his core.

“PJ, are you done?” James inquired with a frown, his nose crinkling in disgust as he stared at the state of the room. Dora was standing stoically behind him, watching everything with a look of boredom and disinterest.

PJ didn't look away. He stared fiercely at Phil with rage, as if he wanted to bury Phil alive. “Yeah, I'm done,” he stated in a calm, collected voice that contradicted the outrage and fury in his eyes. “There's nothing here.”

Phil swallowed in relief, staring back at PJ with pleading eyes. His palms were sweaty and shaking uncontrollably, and he bit his lip to stop them from quivering. He wanted to explain everything to PJ in detail and beg for forgiveness, but he knew this wasn't the right time for that. He had lied and deceived his best friend for months, cooking up fake stories to keep him off his back. He should've trusted PJ and revealed the truth from the very beginning. He regretted it more than he could stand.

Theodora stepped forward gracefully, and the quiet thuds of her heeled boots sounded loud and booming in the strained silence. “We need to confirm the identity of your boy–”

“I already did.” PJ turned away without even a semblance of hesitation, not sparing Phil another glance. “I know him. I can confirm. Luke Adams.”

Theodora narrowed her eyes at PJ, and there was an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes that seemed impossible to break. She glanced down at PJ's bleeding hand, and PJ discreetly pulled it back, keeping his expression neutral. Her gaze snapped up to Phil, and Phil felt a sudden jolt in his chest. _She knew. She knew. She definitely knew._ _Fuckfuckfuck_ _–_

“Very well.” Theodora nodded nonchalantly and checked something on her clipboard, turning away without a second glance. “We're done here.”

Phil's jaw fell open. The torrents of utter relief and joy that overflowed him almost made him melt to the floor. He breathed deeply, internally urging his thumping heart to calm down.

“Anthony. PJ,” Dora called impatiently, tapping her pen on the clipboard. “Your place is next. Both of you will stay outside while we search.”

“Of course,” PJ answered without delay or reluctance.

Phil's heart was slowly retreating to his chest, beating calmly. Theodora walked out, and the rest of the Hunters followed her. PJ shoved his bleeding hand into his pocket, and Phil's chest squeezed with utter gratefulness. He grabbed PJ's shoulder before he could walk away. “PJ, I'm so–”

PJ slapped his hand away aggressively. “Not now!” he hissed angrily in a barely audible voice, rushing to catch up with everyone else. Phil stared after his retreating back, feeling extremely ashamed of himself. He followed the Hunters to the door and watched as they moved to Anthony and PJ's front door. Anthony was the last to leave, and before walking away, he clamped a shaky hand on his shoulder. “Don't worry,” he comforted with a deep sigh. “It's alright.”

Phil nodded miserably. He had never meant to lie to PJ, but it happened and he didn't know how to make it right. “Yeah,” he murmured slowly.

Anthony let go of him. “I have to go,” he said in a silent voice, glancing back at the Hunters. “Lock the door, and get some rest.” He chewed on his lip but leaned in to whisper, “He's safe . . . for now.”

Phil swallowed the lump that rose in his throat and nodded. Anthony didn't say anything more. He turned around and walked away. Phil's gaze followed him for a while before he closed and locked the door, taking a deep, relieved breath. It went well. Dan was safe. He closed his eyes shakily and opened them slowly, turning away. He sauntered tiredly back to his bedroom, hurrying to the bathroom. He was still trembling from the severity of what had occurred. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms around Dan's warm, soft body and inhale his familiar smell. He was almost aching to touch Dan.

Phil knocked on the door multiple times, frowning in concern when Dan didn't open it. “Dan, it's me,” he said reassuringly. “They're gone. It's safe now.” He knocked again with his knuckles, but there was no answer. Phil furrowed his eyebrows worriedly, grabbing the doorknob. He turned it and to his surprise, it opened. “You didn't even lock it, you idiot,” he mumbled with a huff.

Phil opened the door fully and walked inside, blinking in shock when he found Dan sitting on the wet floor, with his knees pulled to his chest and arms folded on his knees. He was soaked head to toe with water, and his head was resting on his folded arms. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be asleep. He was snoring adorably, and Phil's chest fluttered. He smiled sadly and turned the valve, shutting off the water. He crouched beside Dan and stared at him fondly, feeling a strange warmth spreading through his stomach. “Look at you,” he murmured, “Sleeping peacefully at a time like this.” He combed Dan's hair back, staring at his delicate face. “Unbelievable.”

Phil sighed softly and patted his shoulder gently. “Dan,” he said, “Wake up. You'll catch a cold.”

Dan made a small, impatient noise, and Phil huffed. “Dan,” he repeated, “Wake up. Sleep properly on the bed.”

Dan sniffed and blinked his eyes open slowly, rubbing his eyes confusedly. It took him a full second to remember, and his eyes widened in panic. “I fell asleep!” he gasped in shock, “I'm sorry! I just sat here for a while and I–”

“It's fine.” Phil smiled softly. “They're gone. We're safe.”

Dan frowned. “They left?”

Phil nodded. “Yeah.” He didn't want to hold back anymore. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Dan, holding him tightly. Dan didn't resist and hugged him back loosely, looking confused. His unique, calming smell immediately relaxed Phil, and he closed his eyes against the rush of feelings stirring up inside him. It was both amazing and bizarre how just touching Dan's skin made him feel at ease. “You're safe,” he whispered quietly.

“Okay,” Dan mumbled against Phil's shoulder, his voice muffled.

Phil opened his eyes and pulled back in concern. “You're cold, aren't you?” He stood back and pulled Dan to his feet. “Come on. Let's get you warmed up.”

~*~

  
Dan sniffed and snuggled against Phil's back, shrivelling up and shivering slightly. “I'm cold,” he whined restlessly, “Hug me.”

Phil opened his eyes drowsily and turned, throwing an arm around Dan and pulling him against his chest. Dan cuddled up against his body and tucked his face under Phil's chin, breathing deeply in relief. “Warm,” he mumbled quietly.

Phil smiled contently and let out a restful sigh, tipping his head down and placing a kiss into Dan's hair. He closed his eyes in satisfaction, his drowsy mind completely relaxed and in a state of peaceful bliss. He knew there was something fragile in the air, but this was not the time to think about it. Right now, all he could feel was the warmth of Dan's body next to him and the softness of his curly hair against his face. It was almost as if he had found the path to true happiness.

“Phil . . .” Dan whispered against his neck, and Phil's sleepy mind regained focus. “I . . . I can't stay here forever, can I?” There was pain in his voice. Pain and sorrow. “With you . . . I can't . . .”

Phil pulled his hazy mind back to full consciousness, opening his eyes and blinking repeatedly to clear his sleep-filled, tired vision. For a full minute, he didn't quite know how to respond or what to say to ease the tension in the room. He remained quiet, staring in silence at the half-moon through the window. Bit by bit, he gathered his courage and asked sombrely, “Do you want to?” The peace he was feeling vanished into thin air, disappearing like all good things in life usually do. “Do you want to stay with me?”

Dan's fingers curled around his T-shirt, and Phil could tell he was hesitating . . . or maybe he didn't know what to say either. “What do you want me to say?” Dan asked back instead, his voice glum and filled with sadness. “I can't say yes. I can't say no. I can't say anything.”

Phil's arm tightened around Dan. “Why not?”

“Because it doesn't matter what I want,” Dan whispered shakily. “It doesn't matter what I say.”

“It matters to _me_ ,” Phil acknowledged quietly, “I want to know. Do you want to stay with me?”

Dan's hands twisted and tightened around his T-shirt, and he buried his face into Phil's chest. There was silence for a while, but then he nodded, sniffing quietly. Phil swallowed painfully, and his heart sank immediately. He had forced the answer out of Dan due to his strong desire to know, but as soon as he heard it, he immediately regretted asking. Dan was absolutely right. It didn't matter what they both wanted. It just didn't matter.

Phil felt something wet dripping on his neck, and his eyes widened. He pulled back quickly and stared at Dan's tear-filled eyes. “Why are you crying?” he asked in shock.

Dan wiped his eyes and sniffed. “I want to stay with you.”

Phil stared at Dan's delicate face and felt only despair. He lifted his hand and cupped his cheek, staying quiet for a long time. “It'll be alright,” he murmured in an attempt to lighten the mood, “You can find more friends.” He smiled kindly, ignoring the ache in his chest. “You've only known me for a few months. You'll forget about it quickly. Don't worry.” He wiped Dan's tears away with his thumb. “It'll be easy. You'll get used to it. Both of us will.”

Dan stilled immediately, and his body tensed like a hard rock. He swallowed visibly and avoided Phil's gaze uneasily. “I . . .” He pushed him back abruptly and sat up. “I'm going back to my room.”

Phil blinked in confusion. “Dan, what's–” Dan planted his feet on the floor and stood up swiftly, stubbornly not looking at Phil. Phil's eyes widened and his heart thumped in pain. He leaned forward and grabbed Dan's wrist before he could leave. “Dan, wait!” he said hastily, panicking immediately. “Hey.”

Dan's shoulders were stiff, and his hands were clenched into fists. He stood still, and Phil furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “Did I . . . did I say something to upset you? What did I do?” he asked worriedly. “What's wrong?”

“No,” he whispered finally, “It's nothing.”

“I didn't mean to, I'm sorry,” Phil said desperately. He could tell from Dan's posture that he was upset. Phil's heart throbbed, and he wanted to touch Dan. Being apart from him was unbearable. “I'm sorry.”

“No, I . . .” Dan turned around hesitantly, looking down at his feet. “It's not your fault, but I just–”

“Then don't leave, okay? Stay,” Phil told him earnestly. He was aching, and he wanted to be with Dan. “Sleep here. Don't leave.” He pulled Dan down and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him so tightly that he could feel Dan's heartbeat. “I can't–I can't sleep without you.” His fingers tangled in Dan's wonderfully soft hair. It was probably because of everything that had happened, but he felt weirdly desperate . . . as if he couldn't breathe. “Don't go.”

Dan was quiet for a while, but his hands were gentle as he hugged Phil back. “Phil . . .” he whispered in a soft voice. “You're . . . you're shaking . . .”

Phil swallowed. “I'm not.”

“I'm still here,” he assured, and his wings fluttered, tenderly wrapping around Phil.

It was soft and warm against his skin, and Phil felt better instantly. He nodded and squeezed Dan against his chest. “Yeah.” He closed his eyes and inhaled Dan's scent. “I'm glad . . . I'm glad you're here.”


	31. Half-assed

“Anthony just called me.” Phil frowned down at his phone and pushed his chair back, looking back at Dan. He was sitting on the bed with millions of his stuffed penguins, munching on a chocolate bar and watching something on Phil's laptop. His casual appearance made Phil's heart ache. Anthony had given him a week. A single week. The time was almost up, but Phil still hadn't talked to Dan about it. He didn't know how to broach the subject.

Dan looked up confusedly when Phil approached him. “What?”

“Anthony and PJ are coming over to talk.”

“PJ?” Dan tilted his head in confusion, placing his chin on the penguin he was squeezing against his chest. “Your friend?”

“Yeah,” Phil admitted quietly. Dan raised his hand, holding up his chocolate bar. Phil leaned down absently to take a bite. “He found out about you yesterday.” He chewed silently and added, “We should've been more careful.” His heart thumped when he thought of Dora's disinterested face. There was no emotion there. It hadn't even looked like the Hunters cared about their job, but they arrested someone innocent every day. It frightened Phil. It finally dawned on him that his dreams of Dan staying in his home forever was a delusion.

Dan's hand coiled around Phil's wrist, snapping Phil out of his thoughts. He looked down with a blink to see the concern on Dan's face. “What's wrong?” Dan asked.

Phil continued in a grim voice, “Nothing. PJ is probably on our side for now, but you should stay here. I don't know how he'll react when he sees you.”

Dan nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. I'll wait here.”

“Yeah.” Phil nodded back introspectively. His eyes wandered to the dozens of wrappers on the ground, and he huffed in exasperation. “And stop eating so much chocolate!” he grumbled and picked it up, throwing it into the bin.

Dan pouted stubbornly but turned his attention back to the screen. Phil sighed at him, and he was about to scold him when his phone buzzed and lit up with a new text. He looked down nervously. “They're here,” he whispered and turned away. “Wait here, okay?” he repeated once more before leaving the room and advancing to the front door.

Phil chewed nervously on his bottom lip. He wasn't sure what PJ would say, but knowing him, Phil was probably going to get punched in the face. He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders, gathering every bit of his strength and opening the door confidently, a pleasant greeting already waiting on his tongue. _Hi. Just say hi._

PJ was standing in front of the door, and Anthony was close behind him, waving his hand a little fearfully. Phil swallowed timidly, but they were both wearing normal clothes, and it relaxed Phil a tiny bit. PJ was completely silent, his jaw clenched tightly as he stomped inside angrily. Anthony walked behind him, giving Phil an apologetic, reassuring smile. Phil sighed soundlessly and locked the door, turning around to face them.

Without warning, PJ leapt forward at once and grabbed the collar of his shirt, slamming him back against the wall abruptly. Phil's back collided against the hard surface unexpectedly and a sudden gasp let his mouth. He was prepared to be punched in the face, but the sudden, unanticipated attack still managed to take him by surprise. Behind an enraged PJ, Anthony's eyes widened, and he hurried to disperse the angry tension in the room. “Peej, wait–”

PJ glared at Phil with rage, his elbow digging into Phil's neck as he roughly pressed him back against the wall. “Do you have any idea what the fuck you are doing, you bastard?” he shouted violently, and Phil could clearly see the animosity in his furious eyes. “How dare you?”

“PJ, let him explain.” Anthony urged with a sigh, grabbing PJ's shoulders. “Wait, your hand–let him breathe–”

“You're such a selfish fucking twat!” PJ spat bitterly. “You made me lie. You made Anthony lie. Do you realise what you've done? Do you know what will happen if someone finds out?”

Phil blinked repeatedly, noticing the angry clench of PJ's jaw and the formidable disappointment on his face. He immediately felt all the strength and conviction draining from his body, and he bit his lip quietly. “I'm sorry,” he croaked remorsefully.

There was silence for a while, and PJ stared at him with fury on his face. Phil could feel him seething and burning with suppressed rage, and he could tell PJ was fighting the urge to punch him. He could see PJ's inner turmoil as clear as day on his face. They had been friends for a long, long time, and this wasn't the first time Phil had utterly fucked something up.

“Fuck!” PJ yelled in annoyance, letting go of him and turning away with a deep breath. Phil glanced at Anthony and rubbed his neck in silence, watching PJ who stalked to the sofa and dropped back onto it, burying his fingers in his hair in frustration. “I can't believe you've been hiding a winged man. Are you fucking kidding me?”

Phil frowned, turning his questioning glance to Anthony. Anthony scratched his neck awkwardly. “I didn't say anything,” he explained to Phil in a tense voice. “He figured it out.”

“Oh.”

“What?” PJ asked with wide eyes. “Anthony . . . you knew?” Anthony flinched guiltily, and PJ's anger burst open. “You fucking assholes!” he screamed. “Phil's a fucking idiot. You know that, Anthony!” he grumbled loudly, “You know how he is! You _know_. You should've known better. You _actually_ knew about this? Holy fuck! You should've intervened. You should've–”

“How did you know?” Phil asked in trepidation, interrupting him. “You just saw a black feather. It could've been something I grabbed off the street or something. How did you know that I was _hiding_ someone?”

PJ turned to him with a glare. “Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?”

Phil sighed exasperatedly and glanced at Anthony who sat down nervously next to PJ. “No,” he answered cautiously.

Anthony huffed. “It was obviously a newly shed feather, Phil,” he explained quietly, “We're experts. We're taught to recognise these things.” PJ agreed with a nod. “The feather had a shine. Usually, feathers that are shed lose its shine in a few hours.”

PJ leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “Besides, you can't just grab a winged man's feathers. They're sharper than knives and will pierce through your skin at the slightest touch. Even if you wear gloves or cover your hand with a cloth, it'll cut through them all. Picking it up is not easy.”

Phil blinked and frowned in confusion. “Really?” he asked sceptically. He had never had a problem with Dan's feathers, and his wings always felt soft and delicate in Phil's hands. It had never harmed Phil in any way.

“Yeah,” PJ confirmed solemnly. “It wasn't just that. When I saw that feather on the floor, a lot of things came to my mind,” he disclosed honestly. “You were definitely hiding something. You've been avoiding me like the plague for these past few months. I heard from Chris and Louise that you've been ignoring their texts and calls.” PJ's face turned grim, and he weaved his fingers together, frowning pensively. “James and Ethan mentioned that they saw you outside at night, and I've been wondering about that for a while now.”

PJ ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “I've known you for a long time. I can tell when you're lying. When I started searching your room last night, I could feel that something was wrong. There were random things everywhere. There were candy wrappers, clothes and other shit on the floor. Several signs of someone else living with you, and then you suddenly mentioned a _boyfriend_ who you wouldn't let me see. When I saw that feather . . . everything just clicked.”

Phil looked at PJ in surprise. “Oh.” He never realised PJ paid this much attention to him.

“And what was up with your bedroom last night?” PJ snapped in anger, “Are you an idiot? There were clothes everywhere. The handcuffs had dust on it. It was very obviously staged. Do you think Hunters are that stupid?”

Phil bit his lip in embarrassment. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “I really thought it would work.”

“No way,” Anthony chuckled, “Maybe it fooled everyone else, but not us. We know you.”

“You definitely didn't fool Dora,” PJ said contemplatively. “She probably suspected something.”

“Then why didn't she say anything?” Anthony countered with a raised eyebrow. “She's usually very serious when she's working.”

“I don't know,” PJ sighed tiredly, “No one knows what she's thinking. She's weird.”

Phil remained silent, thinking back to when he had encountered her for the first time. She had annoyed him, and he had insulted her unknowingly. It was a meeting he now deeply regretted. When she had talked to Phil the night before, she hadn't shown any signs of recognition. She had talked to Phil as if they were meeting for the first time. He quietly wondered if he had upset her, or perhaps she herself was embarrassed by her drunken behaviour, and she was trying to erase it from Phil's memories by completely ignoring it.

“What the bloody fuck is this?” PJ suddenly yelled in vexation, picking up a stuffed penguin from under him.

Phil blinked and snapped out of his thoughts. His vision refocused on PJ, and he pursed his lips quietly. “Penguin,” he answered.

PJ stared at him blankly and tossed it to the floor. “Why do you have so many?”

Phil frowned and walked towards it, picking it up carefully. “Don't throw it like that,” he complained, placing it on a nearby chair. “Dan loves–” He immediately stopped and bit his lip.

“Dan?” PJ frowned confusedly, but the realisation dawned on him quickly enough. He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw. “He's still here, isn't he? The winged man.”

Phil nodded nervously. “Yeah.”

“Why? Where did he come from?” PJ asked through gritted teeth. “How long has he been here?”

“Two months,” he responded in a quiet voice.

“Two months?!” PJ boomed in shock. “ARE YOU INSANE?”

“Look, he'll leave soon,” Phil explained as calmly as he could. “He was injured when I found him, okay? He was bleeding, and he didn't have a place to stay. I couldn't just leave him.”

“You . . .” PJ asked with wide, startled eyes. “You helped him?”

Phil sighed deeply. “Yes.”

“You're supposed to report him!” PJ shouted loudly. “You shouldn't have helped him. You could've died! They're violent when they're hungry, Phil!”

“Dan's not violent!” Phil expressed in exasperation, his anger surging at the baseless accusation. “He's not. He's really not.” PJ stilled and stared at his outburst in surprise, and Phil closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm down. “Listen, just give me some time. Anthony gave me one week. Let him stay here for three more days. Please,” he pleaded desperately.

Anthony sighed next to PJ and scooted away, staying out of the conversation strategically. PJ was staring at him like he was seeing Phil for the first time. He blinked repeatedly and frowned. “Where is he right now? Is he restrained? Are his eyes red? If they are, you need to restrain him.” PJ said seriously, “Tying him to a chair will work. Are you keeping him locked in the spare room?”

“What? No!” Phil's jaw dropped, and he gaped at PJ in shock. “I'm not tying him to a chair or locking him up! I've told you. He's harmless. He doesn't want to hurt anyone.”

PJ blinked, and his eyes widened in bafflement. “How do you know that?” he shouted, “There are several winged men who think humans are inferior, you moron!”

Phil folded his arms across his chest and answered solemnly, “Dan's not like that.” He took a deep breath. “I trust him. We're friends. I've known him for about six months,” he confessed with squinted eyes. “He's a good person.”

PJ's mouth hung open, and he stared at Phil as if he had just dropped a bomb on the floor. “Six months? Are you out of your mind?!” he shrieked with his face in his hands. “You've been doing this for six months? Do you even understand how serious this is? Are you going to take full responsibility when something happens?” He stood up abruptly and paced back and forth, biting his lips with a frustrated look on his face. His shoulders were rigid, and he pulled his hair with shaking hands, looking extremely upset and distressed. “Do you know who he is? Do you know where he came from? You can't trust someone who you don't _know_ , Phil!”

“PJ, calm down. I have–” Anthony interrupted hesitantly, throwing Phil a knowing glance.

“How the fuck am I supposed to calm down?” PJ jabbed harshly, “Anthony, you knew about this. You should've knocked some sense into him. The winged man may not be a bad guy, but Phil has always been an absolute idiot. Why didn't you–”

“You're being unreasonable, PJ,” Phil cut in sharply. “I'm only doing what I think is right.”

“Oh, unreasonable?” PJ let out a bitter laugh. “ _I_ am being unreasonable?” His expression turned aggressive. “You're hiding a _winged man._ A winged man you don't _know!_ You almost got caught! All three of us would've _died_ if Dora had insisted on checking the bathroom!” he fumed, “The winged man you're protecting would've died! I'm not even going to mention how you probably let the winged man leave this building multiple times through your window. There are several witnesses! A lot of people saw it!” PJ's whole face was red with anger. “You have absolutely no _idea_ what you're doing! You don't care about the consequences. You never have. You've always made the rest of us deal with _your_ mess!”

Phil flinched back with every word, and his head automatically lowered in shame. PJ lifted his finger in fury, making Phil recoil timidly. “I'm not mad that you tried to protect someone. I'm mad because _you–”_ He pointed at Phil aggressively. “–never think things through! I've always hated that half-assed attitude of yours. If you want to protect someone, you do it with everything you have. You do it _right!”_ He glared at Phil, heaving with anger. “You can't be careless when it comes to things like this, or you'll end up hurting everyone around you.”

Phil remained quiet. He couldn't deny it. He had been hopeful. He had acted carelessly. He never thought someone would notice them. It did cross his mind, but he always dismissed the thought. PJ was right, and Phil couldn't even look him in the eyes. “Sorry . . . ” he murmured slowly.

PJ pinched the bridge of his nose in agitation. “You don't know anything about winged people. There are a lot of hostile winged people who hate humans. Several winged men wouldn't think twice before attacking for human blood.”

“Dan's not like that.” Phil defended quietly. His hands impulsively clenched into fists, and he took a deep breath. PJ narrowed his eyes. “I've been living with him for two months. He's not violent, and he has never asked me for blood. _Never_. I found him in an alley, and he–he was hurt and starving. I couldn't just leave him there. I'm sorry.” PJ looked at him in surprise, and Phil went on, “He's healthier now, but when I found him, he was so skinny, he was dying. I tried to persuade him to drink my blood, but he wouldn't. His eyes were yellow, and he was fatally anaemic, but he never attacked me.”

PJ frowned in shock and disbelief. “His eyes were yellow, and he didn't attack you?”

“No,” Phil confirmed, “You're right. I don't know many winged men . . . I don't know what they think of humans, or how they behave around humans. I know I was careless, and I made a mistake. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess. I really am,” he admitted genuinely, “But I know Dan more than anyone. I _know_ him. I promise you, he's genuinely nice, and we're good friends. I trust him with my life.”

PJ stared at him, startled by the sudden revelation. Phil chewed on his bottom lip and glanced at Anthony's equally surprised face. “I know you don't believe me, but just–ask Anthony,” Phil huffed softly, “Anthony has been helping us. Dan's not here to cause any trouble. I'm sorry for hiding this from you, but Dan will leave next week, and everything will return to normal. Until then–” Phil swallowed nervously. “Please keep this a secret. Trust me. It won't happen again. No one will know.”

Anthony finally butted in with his own observation, “PJ,” he began with a pensive expression on his face, weaving his fingers together solemnly. “I do understand your concern, and I know this is a huge shock to you–” PJ nodded with an unsettled huff. “–but Phil's right. I've been watching him. He seems to adore Phil. He's surprisingly normal. I know Phil fucked up, but at least nothing bad happened.”

PJ's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, and he glanced back and forth between Phil and Anthony, looking both appalled and astonished at the same time. He opened his mouth to utter something but snapped it shut with a deep sigh. He rubbed his forehead and huffed, falling back on the sofa wordlessly.

There was a tense silence for several never-ending minutes. PJ stared pointedly at the ceiling for a long time, looking to be deep in thought. Anthony and Phil glanced at each other awkwardly, waiting for PJ to speak. Finally, he did. “Do you even know what will happen to us when someone finds out about this?” His voice was calmer now, but there was a hint of unavoidable dread in his tone. “I don't even want to think about it.” His voice turned grim. “I wanted to visit Japan at least once before I died, but oh well . . .” He sighed solemnly.

Anthony pursed his lips quietly, looking as if he wanted to laugh, but he knew it wouldn't be appropriate. PJ pressed two fingers against both of his temples and moved his fingers in a circular motion, closing his eyes quietly. “We'll lose our jobs, and this moron over here–” PJ opened his eyes and pointed at Phil. “–will be thrown into prison!” He turned to stare at Anthony. “Hit me on the head and wipe my memory. I know nothing about this. I'm going to forget everything and move to Japan.” He squinted contemplatively. “No, Antarctica is better. Anywhere is fine as long as I'm far, far away from you guys.”

Anthony shrugged with a smile and looked up at Phil. “PJ won't tell anyone. You know he's alright with it if he's making jokes about it.” He looked back at PJ. “So, do you want to meet him? You'll understand when you meet him.” He smirked. “No one has to know, PJ. Dan's leaving in a few days anyway. Nothing will happen to us because no one will ever know.”

Phil nodded approvingly, staring at PJ earnestly, waiting for his answer. PJ frowned in utter confusion. “Who even is this guy?” he asked with a deep sigh, “Why do you both care so much about him? Why are you trying to help him? This makes no sense.”

Anthony shrugged lazily. “I like playing chess with him. It's not like I care about him deeply or anything. It's more like . . . helping someone vulnerable? I don't know.”

PJ's eyes widened comically. “You play chess with him? Is that even possible? Does he allow you to go near him?”

Anthony shook his head in denial. “No, he always makes sure to sit far away from me,” he relayed in a thoughtful voice, “He's . . . uh, different around Phil though.”

PJ stared with wide, intrigued eyes. “How?” he asked in a sceptical voice.

Phil pursed his lips sullenly. “Can you promise not to hurt him?” he mumbled hesitantly. “I'm not sure if he'll want to meet you, but I'll ask.”

PJ gave Phil a blank look. “If I wanted to hurt _you_ or him, I could've told Theodora everything yesterday. I've already lied for you. Isn't that enough?”

Phil bit his lip in remorse, and he immediately regretted asking the unwarranted question. It was unnecessary and rude, and Phil was continuously doubting his friends when they had done nothing to deserve it. They both had grown up in an unfair society in which hating winged men was the norm, and their initial reaction was completely normal and understandable. What mattered more was the fact that they were slowly recognising the faults in the system, and they were willing to go against everything they had been taught until now.

Anthony smiled reassuringly. “You know you can trust PJ,” he told Phil in a sincere tone, “He just likes to act tough. He's not going to tell anyone, Phil. You know that.”

PJ harrumphed. “Shut up. I'll tell everyone and arrest both of you if I feel like what you're doing is wrong.”

Anthony rolled his eyes exasperatedly and shouted loudly, “Dan!” His voice boomed in the silence. “Come outside!”

There was nothing but an awkward, ringing silence for several minutes, and PJ stared back and forth between them, looking almost like he was suppressing his curiosity and excitement. Soon, the wait was over, and Dan screamed back, “Go away!”

PJ's brows vanished into his hairline, and Dan shouted again, “I won't come out until Phil tells me it's safe! Phil told me to wait so go away!”

Anthony shrugged with a sigh, and Phil cracked a small smile. “It's alright, Dan! It's safe. Come here!”

PJ turned to Anthony with a questioning look, and Anthony huffed. “Phil's the only person he listens to.”

PJ frowned pensively, and Phil poked his head into the hallway to see Dan standing shyly near the bedroom door, looking hesitant and confused. Phil waved him over. “Come on. It's okay,” he called comfortingly.

Dan frowned at him but quietly tiptoed towards him, his steps tentative and timid. He approached Phil silently and immediately hid behind him, grabbing his waist and clinging to Phil like a shy child. Phil smiled at him affectionately, and Dan peered over his shoulder at PJ, staring suspiciously. “Who is he?”

“PJ. He's my friend,” Phil introduced and turned to PJ. “This is Dan.”

PJ was gaping at them with shocked eyes, staring unabashedly at the way Dan was standing close to Phil. There was confusion and horror on his face, but there was also a small tinge of interest. He looked back and forth between Anthony and Phil. “Wait . . . why is . . . ” he trailed off, blinking repeatedly in befuddlement. “Why is he standing close to Phil?”

Anthony grinned knowingly, pleased by PJ's fascination. “He trusts Phil,” he acknowledged.

Phil nodded with a smile, looking behind his shoulder at Dan who was glaring at PJ, looking distant and hostile. “He's not dangerous. It's fine. Calm down,” Phil assured.

PJ's eyes were full of awe. “Why is he touching you?”

Anthony shrugged nonchalantly. “Like I said, he trusts Phil.”

PJ narrowed his eyes at Dan, a ruminative look on his face. There was confusion in his eyes, but intrigue appeared to overpower his concerns. He frowned at Dan and blinked repeatedly, stepping a little closer to get a better look. His eyes widened slightly, and he muttered, “Wait . . . I've seen you before.” He stared at Dan with squinted eyes for a few seconds before jerking back with a shocked look on his face. “You are . . . aren't you–” He glanced at the way Dan was touching Phil and stopped immediately. “Oh.”

Phil arched a curious eyebrow. “Do you know each other?”

Dan shook his head. “I don't know this guy.”

PJ averted his eyes and shrugged. “No. I don't know him. He just looked familiar, that's all.” His posture was a little distant, but Phil decided to let it go. “Have we met before?”

The question was directed at Dan, and Dan looked up with a puzzled frown. “I don't know you. Bye,” he mumbled hastily and hid his face behind Phil, clinging to him.

PJ continued to stare at them pensively, and Anthony placed a hand on his shoulder. “So,” he asked in a playful tone, “You're not going to report us, are you?”

PJ rolled his eyes at his question. “No, I'm not going to report you, Anthony, but he needs to leave. This is going to end our lives. I can feel it,” he declared in an ominous tone.

Phil gave PJ a pleading look. “He will. I told you. He'll leave in a few days, and I won't let him come here ever again,” Phil forced it out of his mouth, biting his lip nervously. He felt Dan's body going rigid behind his back. His arms loosened around Phil's waist and slowly fell away. “We'll never meet again. It's not like we can continue to be friends.” Phil glanced back to notice Dan stepping away from him, his gaze fixed on the floor, his shoulders stiff. Phil frowned in confusion and turned back to PJ.

PJ glanced back at Dan and pursed his lips tightly, staring solemnly at the floor. There was a tense silence for several seconds, and Phil noticed Dan returning to his bedroom out of the corner of his eyes. PJ finally sighed. “Alright.” He huffed. “I don't think it'll be that easy but . . . alright.” He rubbed his eyes in frustration. “I do think it's better to stay here until it's safe to leave. Hunters will be closely watching this building for a while.”

Anthony cheered and thumped PJ on his back. “Thanks, mate!”

PJ gave him a blank look. “Shut up. I'll report you if he doesn't leave in three days.”

Phil swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “Okay,” he agreed in a gruff voice. “Three days. Yeah. That's all I need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh! I'm so sorry! I skipped an update without saying anything! The last time I updated I had a mild fever, but I thought it would go away, and I would be able to update, but it didn't and it was a terrible week for me. Though thankfully it wasn't covid. 
> 
> Ugh but this sucks :( I absolutely HATE not being on time, even in real life. I know. I know. It's just a fanfic, but I can't work if I'm not exactly on time, but nothing I can do about it now..... I guess I'll see you next Thursday then. I always get a fever around this time every year. Now that it's over, I can work better, I guess :D


	32. You can't be that dumb

“Dan?” Phil whispered in a gentle voice, gazing quietly at Dan's stiff back. “Are you awake?”

It was noticeably dark in the room, and Dan was sleeping peacefully next to him on the bed. Dan had barely approached Phil after meeting PJ. He had hesitantly avoided Phil's gaze, pacing back and forth in the hallway and shutting himself in the other room without any intention to reveal the cause of his dissatisfaction. He hadn't come near Phil all day, but he had crawled into Phil's bed at night without any explanation at all. “Dan?” he murmured again, reaching out to place his hand on Dan's back.

It was almost midnight, but sleep refused to come close to him. He had been twisting and turning in his bed for half-an-hour now, his mind too worried and frustrated to slip into sleep. He couldn't help but dread next week. He had become attached to Dan. His life almost revolved around Dan. Everything he did, everything in his house, his routine and his actions had become accustomed to Dan's presence. It would be hard and painful to go back to his normal, lonely lifestyle and monotonous schedule. “Dan.”

Dan flipped around reluctantly and fluttered open his brown eyes, looking at Phil with an unreadable expression on his pale face. “What?”

Dan's voice was quiet, hesitant, but it filled Phil with an emotion he didn't want to acknowledge. Dan was in front of him, right where Phil wanted him to be, but there was uncertainty hanging in the air between them, a sad awkwardness that wasn't there before. Their feelings, their friendship, the bond they had formed with each other was about to meet its end, and Phil saw no future in the distance. The realisation of that truth was clearly evident on Dan's delicate face, and Phil felt his heart throb with pain.

Phil extended his hand and placed it on Dan's cheek, brushing his skin gently. “What are you thinking, Dan?”

Dan averted his gaze. “Nothing.” He sounded annoyed.

Phil smiled sadly, and he couldn't resist himself. He leaned forward and pressed his lips fervently against Dan's, cupping his face delicately in his rough hands and moving his lips in a slow, tender kiss. Dan lifted his hand shakily and curled his slender fingers around the collar of Phil's T-shirt, deepening the kiss almost desperately. Phil inched closer, slipping his tongue into Dan's wet mouth. He tasted sweet like sugar, and his unique smell was intoxicating and calming at the same time. It made Phil's heart quicken and his palms sweat. It was passionate but simple at the same time. No one had ever managed to make him feel this way.

Phil's breaths left his lips in small puffs, and his kisses were eager and hasty. “Dan . . .” he breathed deeply, flinging his leg over Dan's waist and climbing on top of him fluidly. Dan's chin tipped up to kiss him, earnest little pecks that drove Phil crazy. His fingers tangled in Dan's silky smooth hair, and he kissed and kissed Dan for what felt like hours, his mouth moving, his hands roaming and his tongue discovering Dan's mouth all over again. It felt exciting and liberating and like he had finally found something he truly _wanted._ Wanted more than anything in this world. “Fuck,” he panted, pulling back for air for a second before diving back in with desire in his eyes. He wanted . . . he wanted to do it. This would be his last chance.

Phil blinked and halted when he felt Dan's palm on his chest, pushing him back wordlessly. Phil furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and looked down to see Dan avoiding his gaze soundlessly. “What's wrong?” he asked in surprise.

Dan looked conflicted, his brown eyes and his behaviour a little distant. “I, um, I don't want to.”

Phil let go of Dan worriedly, and his heart sank in sorrow. “Are you mad at me?”

Dan shook his head reluctantly. “No.”

Phil shifted away, shuffling to Dan's side with a concerned frown on his face. “You've been acting weird recently, Dan,” he disclosed worriedly, “Is something wrong? Did I do something?”

Dan shrugged. “No.”

“You look upset.”

“I'm not.”

“Is it something I said?”

“No.”

“Is it something I did?”

“No.”

“What is it?”

“It's nothing important.”

Phil sighed. “You're not looking at me, Dan.”

Dan bit his lip and averted his eyes. “I said it's nothing.”

“Hey, look at me,” Phil chastised, “Why do you look upset? What did I do?”

Dan fidgeted restlessly with his fingers, chewing on his bottom lip silently for a long time. “No . . . I'm not–I just . . .” he paused and glanced at Phil. “Is this all you want? Um, kissing and bonding activities?”

Phil rubbed the nape of his neck in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Dan stared at him with sadness in his eyes and turned away quietly. “It's just . . . you don't even look like you _like_ me,” he admitted in a voice barely above a whisper, sounding dejected and vulnerable. “I don't understand. It –uh . . . ” Dan flushed. “It looks like you want to get bonded, but–um, you don't seem . . . _serious._ It's like you don't really care . . . I don't understand.”

“You think I'm not serious?” Phil's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline in surprise. He stared at Dan's dull brown eyes and crestfallen expression in stupefaction. He sat up on the bed and cautiously took Dan's hands into his, pulling him up and letting go. “What are you talking about, Dan?” he asked tenderly in confusion. “Why do you think I don't care about you?”

Dan crossed his legs with a sigh and fidgeted with his long sleeves, biting his lip despondently. Phil's hand automatically reached out, and he rolled his sleeves with a frown. “I do like you,” Phil confessed silently in the darkness, shifting to sit in front of Dan. He cupped Dan's face and placed their foreheads together. “I like you very much.”

Dan flushed from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. “Really?” he mumbled in a small voice, glancing down at Phil's lips.

“Yeah.” Phil smiled and joined their lips. He swiped his tongue across Dan's bottom lip and gently slipped inside, tasting Dan in his mouth. Dan made a small appreciative noise from his throat, and Phil trailed his lips down to Dan's chin, peppering kisses from his jaw all the way down his neck. His fingers twisted in Dan's soft hair and angled his head, pressing kisses on the crook of Dan's neck. He smelled so good that it was making Phil dizzy.

“P-phil . . .” Dan panted, his hand squeezing Phil's shoulder. “I don't . . . um, I don't want to get bonded without knowing what you want . . .” He still looked a little upset. “You still don't really sound serious . . .”

“Bonded? What's that?” Phil pulled back with a grin and wrapped his arms around Dan's waist, pulling him to his lap. “Don't worry. We don't have to do anything.” Dan blinked and straddled Phil's waist, looking down at him in surprise. Phil smiled up at him. “I just want you to know that I like you, okay?” he confirmed in a quiet voice. He couldn't understand why Dan would conclude Phil disliked him. They had grown close to each other over the last few months. They did everything together, and they had formed a strong . . . friendship. “I'll miss you when you . . .” he trailed off, his arms tightening around Dan's waist. His chest ached, and he swallowed painfully. “I wish you could stay here . . . with me.”

Dan circled his arms around Phil's neck, hugging him tightly. He buried his face into the crook of Phil's shoulder, and his warmth and kindness flowed into Phil. His smell immediately enveloped Phil, and he felt calm and composed. His jumbled thoughts cleared, and his sadness vanished into the darkness. All he could feel was Dan's warmth. “I'll miss you, Dan,” he whispered in a broken voice.

~*~

PJ sat lazily beside Anthony on the sofa, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he flipped through random T.V channels. His focus and attention weren't on the screen. The volume was low, and it just played in the background as an easy remedy for the awkward silence in the room. Phil discreetly watched PJ's gaze flick dubiously from Anthony to Dan, analysing the rivalry turned friendship between them. His narrowed eyes followed Dan's movements and expressions, and inspected him head to toe as if he were an insect under a microscope. Every time Dan made a noise or shifted from his seat, PJ flinched and his body stiffened up in alarm.

Phil, who was sitting beside Dan with his laptop on his hips, would hide his snigger whenever it happened, thoroughly amused by the strange dynamic between the three of them. His laptop was forgotten. He was more intrigued by PJ's shocked face every time Dan did something unexpected. It was hilarious, and while PJ was scrutinizing them all, Phil was quietly watching his odd facial expressions. Both Dan and Anthony were too immersed in their game to notice. Anthony looked relaxed and laid back as he played with Dan, earning effortless victories over and over again. 

Dan had been slightly reluctant to play a game in front of PJ, but he had relaxed and agreed when Phil sat down beside him. After a while, he had become far too frustrated to even notice PJ's presence beside Anthony. 

“Why do I keep losing?” Dan snapped angrily. 

PJ's eyes widened in fear. He glanced at Dan's wings for some reason, but his fear vanished when Anthony burst out into loud, taunting laughter. “Ha!” he pointed at Dan and laughed smugly. “You lost! You're a loser!”

“How old are you?” Phil muttered under his breath.

Dan glared at him and gritted his teeth. “Shut up!” Dan snapped, hurling a pawn at Anthony's head. “I hate you!”

PJ looked back and forth between them in astonishment. He looked fascinated by the friendly banter and comfortable, teasing exchange between them. He was staring at Dan's irritated face, his gaze dipping down to observe the way he was sitting close to Phil, glued to his side. Phil looked away and shuffled aside when PJ raised an intrigued eyebrow. His sharp gaze returned to Dan and Anthony as if in awe, and Phil resisted an intense urge to snigger under his breath. PJ's eyes widened when Dan let out a shout, and he cautiously shifted away, putting distance between himself and Dan. “ . . . can't believe the strongest winged man in the world is sitting here playing chess . . .” 

Phil blinked suddenly. “What?” He gaped at PJ. 

PJ stilled and raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Phil frowned. “What did you just say?”

PJ shrugged. “Nothing,” he said nonchalantly, “I was just remembering a scene from a movie.”

Phil furrowed his eyebrows, opening his mouth to further interrogate him, but Anthony's laugh cut him off, grabbing his attention. 

“You're cheating,” Dan accused in a fuming voice, making Phil turn to him. “You're definitely cheating!”

Anthony chuckled. “I'm not, you idiot,” he informed Dan kindly, “You just don't know how to play. You focus on your strategy so much that you don't even notice when I take your pieces. You need to be aware of every move I make at all times. You need to look at the whole chessboard and predict what I intend to do before I do it.”

Dan tilted his head in confusion. “That's what I'm trying to do.”

Anthony snorted. “No, you're not. I told you to stop trying to hoard your pieces.” He launched into an explanation, and Dan squinted his eyes, nodding along to Anthony's every word. “Look, chess is all about capturing your opponent's King. As long as your King is safe, the game will go on. Your problem is that you keep trying to defend every single piece, even pawn. It doesn't matter. Fuck pawns. You can't win without some sacrifices.”

Dan frowned thoughtfully, and Phil stared at him unabashedly, making a mental note to talk to PJ later. Dan was way more interesting than a movie. He smiled involuntarily at Dan's pouty lips, messy hair and narrowed eyes. Dan's curly hair framed his pale face beautifully, and Phil had a sudden urge to reach out and brush his hair. He wanted to touch his skin and feel the smoothness on his palms. He bit his lip in silent frustration and turned away, looking back at PJ to see him arch an amused eyebrow. Phil flushed in embarrassment, dropping his gaze to his laptop screen.

PJ stood up suddenly, placing his hands on his hips and looking down at them. All three of them looked up questioningly, and PJ shrugged. “I have to go,” he announced guiltily, “I finally got a day off. I'm going out with Chris tonight.”

Anthony nodded. “Alright. See ya.”

PJ waved absently and gave Phil an odd look before turning away. Phil blinked in confusion and stared at PJ's back with furrowed eyebrows, thoroughly perplexed by his strange behaviour. PJ disappeared through the door, closing it with a quiet thud. Phil placed his laptop on the table and rose to his feet, sidestepping the coffee table and heading towards the main door to lock it. He had learnt his lesson, and he was determined to not repeat the same mistake again. He always double-checked the door every time he went outside or Anthony came over.

Phil marched to the door and closed it properly, locking it with a deep, relieved sigh. He sauntered back into the living room tiredly to find Dan alone. “Where's Anthony?” he inquired in confusion.

“He went to the bathroom,” Dan informed him in a bored voice.

Phil nodded and dropped to the chair, letting out a sigh. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose in exhaustion, turning to notice Dan smiling at him. He arched an eyebrow. “What?”

Dan grinned brightly and shuffled out of his seat, lifting his legs and climbing to Phil's lap. Phil's eyebrows vanished up into his hairline in delighted surprise, and his hands subconsciously wrapped around his waist to support him. Dan circled his hands around Phil's neck and grinned in satisfaction. “Why do you keep staring at me?” he asked with a knowing smile.

Phil looked left and right discreetly, checking to see if Anthony had returned. “Because you're so handsome,” he teased.

Dan grinned and pressed a quick kiss on his lips. He gave Phil a tight, squeezing hug before getting down hastily and sliding back to his seat. “I feel much better now.” He grinned at Phil.

Phil smiled at him affectionately, and he couldn't resist himself. Dan looked adorable, with his child-like grin and warm eyes. He leaned forward and grabbed Dan's face abruptly, pulling him into a soft kiss. Dan's lips were as delicate as the rest of him. Phil had never felt such deep fondness for another person. Most of his past kisses had been hasty, rough and filled with lust, but with Dan, he always wanted it to be loving and tender. He always felt like he needed to be gentle and affectionate with Dan. He wanted to _cherish_ Dan.

“What the fuck?”

Phil snapped back to reality with a sudden jolt, pushing Dan back harshly as he jerked back with startled eyes and a wide-eyed face. His heart jumped to his throat, and his palms turned sweaty. He stared straight at a frozen Anthony who looked back at Phil with his mouth agape. There was a disbelieving shock etched across his face along with a sudden hint of realisation and clarity. He looked back and forth between them, and his eyes turned cold and distant. His hands balled into tight fists and he clenched his jaw. “Please tell me this is not what I think it is.” He glared at Phil. “Phil, you can't be that dumb.”

Phil swallowed worriedly. “Listen, it's not what it looks–”

Anthony shot Phil a glare, facing Dan. “I need to talk to him. _Alone,_ ” he emphasised, gesturing for him to leave. “PJ was absolutely right about _everything._ You're a fucking idiot.”


	33. You're a liar

Dan glanced at Phil timidly, his face tense with concern. Phil shifted his gaze from Dan to Anthony and found him staring back in anger. He looked like he was suppressing his fury and putting on a mask of calmness to appear less scary, but it was barely working. He was short but muscular, like a little giant, and a chill ran down Phil's spine. His body was rigid and indecisive due to Anthony's unexpected request. He had acted carelessly again. He was so completely enthralled by Dan's every movement that he had forgotten the risks and the things at stake. He was, without a doubt, acting recklessly in Anthony's eyes, and he himself was aware of it. He couldn't bring himself to blame Anthony for being upset.

“Shit,” Anthony cursed suddenly, pulling out his ringing phone. “I forgot about donation day . . . ” He placed his phone against his ear with a frustrated groan. “Hello?” He frowned in annoyance and eyed Phil disapprovingly as he talked quickly. “Yeah. I know. Sorry, I'll be there in a minute. Yeah. I just need to grab my bag from my room.”

Gulping fearfully, Phil turned away from Anthony and gave Dan an agreeing nod. “It's alright,” he mouthed discreetly. “Let me talk to him.”

Dan bit his lip worriedly and nodded, turning away and vanishing into the hallway. Anthony finished talking swiftly and slipped his phone back into his pocket, facing Phil angrily. An intolerable silence prevailed for a few terrifying seconds, and Phil found Anthony's stare to be extremely unsettling. He averted his gaze and glanced around everywhere in an attempt to avoid conversation. “Uh . . .”

Anthony harrumphed in rage and stomped forward, grabbing a stuffed penguin from the table and aiming it directly at Phil's face. It came entirely out of nowhere and knocked Phil off balance. He stumbled back with surprise, clutching his nose in pain. It happened abruptly, and it was so childish that for a few baffling moments, he didn't even register what had happened. He gaped at Anthony. “What the hell?”

Anthony clenched his jaw. “I'm starting to understand why PJ was angry. I should never have helped you,” he gritted through his teeth, “I should punch you!”

Phil rubbed his nose and grimaced in pain, glancing at Anthony who glowered at him. Anthony flared his nostrils in satisfaction, moving back smugly. “You deserve it. You're a reckless idiot!” he growled, falling back into a chair and dropping his face into his hands in agitation. “This is all such a fucking mess!”

Phil opened his mouth to snap at Anthony, ready to retaliate against the unsolicited attack, but then a thread of hesitation coiled around his tongue, making him snap his jaw shut silently. He let out a huge sigh and scratched his neck awkwardly. “What's the matter with you?” he muttered in embarrassment, “I know you're shocked but–but I promise it's not that serious. We're just–”

“Not that serious?” Anthony looked perplexed. “What are you talking about?”

“What?” Phil raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Anthony shot him an odd look. “Wait–” A look of realisation dawned on his face. “Wait, you don't even know. Holy fuc–” His phone rang again, cutting him off. He slipped his hand into his pocket absently and the ringing stopped. “Are you bonded?”

Phil's eyes widened in bewilderment. “What are you even talking about?”

“Did you have sex with him, you fucking idiot?” Anthony snapped loudly, looking up to glare at him like he had done something absolutely despicable.

Phil frowned in confusion, lowering his hand. “No.”

Anthony narrowed his eyes doubtfully. “You didn't?”

“It's none of your business. What the fuck are you–”

“Just answer the damn question, Phil.”

Phil sighed heavily. “I didn't, alright? Why are you being so weird? It's creepy–”

Anthony let out a loud, relieved breath, and his shoulders relaxed. “Thank god.” There was a small moment of awkward silence, and Phil's tension eased slowly. Phil didn't quite understand what Anthony was so stressed about, but at least he no longer looked angry. Anthony sat back and huffed quietly, looking up at Phil with a solemn expression on his face. “So, what? Are you in love with him or something? What's going on?”

“W-what? No way,” Phil let out a startled, almost derisive laugh, “It's not that serious between us. I'm not _that_ stupid, you know. I was . . . I was just having fun, I guess.” He pushed his glasses up and rubbed his neck tensely. “We're not in a relationship. I don't have feelings for him. I've always been kind of curious about winged people, and it's just–it's nothing serious. I don't like him like that. It's not like we can even meet each other after this anyway. Don't worry about it.”

Phil looked up nervously, but instead of looking relieved, Anthony looked horrified. He was staring at Phil in revulsion, an appalled, almost disbelieving look in his eyes. He gave Phil a nasty glare. “You're being disgusting.”

Phil's blood sizzled at the unnecessary remark, and he was starting to get annoyed by Anthony's illogical words and actions. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You don't know, do you?” Anthony spat with a disappointed look on his face. “You're being cruel to him, you asshole. He doesn't exist to sate your curiosity. It's weird. You're being weird about it. It's not like you.” Phil frowned in utter confusion and uncertainty. He opened his mouth to express his doubts, but Anthony cut him off before he could speak. “I told you to be careful. I warned you multiple times. Winged men are not like us. They very rarely engage in intimate activities. It's easy for you to use him and throw him away when you don't need him anymore, but he can't get over it that easily. Winged people can't let go of bonds–” His phone rang again, and he pulled it out in anger. “Dammit.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I'm not _using_ him!” Phil demanded, completely baffled and a little unsettled by Anthony's predictions. “I already told you. Nothing is going on between us. It doesn't mean anything. I know you think I'm too attached to him, but I'm not. I'll get over it. I don't care. It's not like I'm going to marry him. There's no need to get worked up. He's going to leave in two days, and we won't see him ever again. It was all purely sexual. Wait, why am I even telling you this? Am I supposed to report every little thing I do to you? Why are you getting involved? It doesn't concern you.”

Anthony shook his head. “You don't get it. You shouldn't have touched him at all.” His phone buzzed in his hand, and he stood up. “I should've realised it a long time ago. I always thought it was weird how comfortable Dan was with you. I thought he was just different.”

“Well, I'm sorry. I can't do anything about it now. It just happened, and I regret it. I wish I had never helped him,” Phil blurted with a deep sigh. “Dan hasn't said anything either. He never seemed to mind.”

“Well, obviously. Why would he say anything? He thinks you want to bond!” Anthony frowned. “I don't care. Stop bonding with him. You can find other partners, but Dan can't.”

“What's that even supposed to mean?” Phil asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“Bonding? Do you know what that is? Look it up, asshole.” Anthony's phone lit up with a text, and he carded his fingers through his hair. “Look, whatever you do, don't get bonded. Stop thinking with your dick. Talk to him about it. Explain it to him. He probably doesn't understand. Only two more days, Phil. Don't do anything stupid. You'll get over it, but Dan can't. Just don't do it. It looks like you've already fucked everything up for him. Don't make it worse.” He turned around without another word, and Phil frowned at him, following him to the door.

“Are you leaving?” he asked in surprise.

“Yeah, my friend's waiting for me outside,” he disclosed in a hasty voice, “We're going to the Village today. It's my donation day.”

“Donation day?” Phil arched a curious eyebrow. “You mean–”

“Yeah, I'm going to donate my blood to the Organization.”

Phil furrowed his eyebrows, slightly intrigued. “And who's this friend?”

Anthony glared. “Revealing my secret was a dumb mistake. You have officially proven that you're too stupid to handle it.” He turned away and marched down the hallway. “I'm not revealing my friend's identity just so you can fuck that up too.”

Phil went red in the face with anger, and he clenched his jaw, slamming the door shut disdainfully. “Asshole,” he muttered under his breath, huffing in anguish. His hands were slightly shaking, and he felt dismayed and upset. Anthony's words had rubbed him in the wrong way. He had kept pretending as if Phil had done something extremely unpleasant. It irked him for some reason. Dan was an adult and thoroughly capable of making his own decisions. Phil didn't understand why it was so wrong for them to be sexually involved. Was having sex a crime now?

Phil clicked his tongue in vexation and stomped through the living room, heading towards their bedroom. He had promised himself that he would forget about his problems and enjoy his last few days with Dan. He wanted to make it as memorable as possible. After all, they won't meet again . . .

Phil's chest throbbed with pain, but he ignored it with a clench of his jaw. Sometimes, he regretted helping Dan. If they had never met, Phil wouldn't be suffering right now. He would've been living his boring life, and these two days would've been like every other random day. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, stopping his thoughts before they went out of control. It didn't matter. The pain and sadness would slowly disappear with time. He probably wouldn't even remember Dan's face five years from now. Dan would be just another blurry silhouette in the memories of his past. It was all for the best.

Phil bit his lip and turned to the narrow hallway, instantly stopping dead in his path. He blinked in shock. “Dan,” he blurted, jerking back.

He baulked at the sight in front of him. His eyes widened in surprise, and he looked down confusedly at Dan who was sitting in the hallway, his back pressed against the wall, hugging his knees to his chest. His large wings encircled him, looking a bit different than usual. It was dull without the shine that made it so elegant, and Phil's confusion increased twofold. There were tears in his dull brown eyes and a despair-filled heartbroken look on his face. “What's wrong?” he asked in shock. “Why are you sitting here?”

Dan sniffed silently and refused to meet his eyes, staring at his knees with tearful, devastated eyes. He was still, so still and stiff that he looked like a porcelain doll. “What's wrong?” Phil repeated in concern, his heartbeat loud in the silence.

Dan's lips quivered, and his expression was beyond dejected. “You lied . . . ” he sniffled finally in a shaky, weak voice, “You lied to me. You lied to me about _everything . . ._ ”

Phil stared at him in concern for many tense moments before the realisation collapsed on top of him like a crushing weight. He blanched. “Wait . . . ” He swallowed fearfully, “How–how long have you been here?” His thoughts immediately sprinted back to his conversation with Anthony, and his heart sank inevitably. _Fuck_.

“You don't like me,” Dan murmured in a vulnerable voice, his lips quivering due to the effort he was putting to control his tears. “You lied.”

Phil's chest squeezed with pain, and he bit his lip guiltily. The hallway was suddenly too quiet and tight and suffocating. There was no sound except for the distant noise of Dan's broken voice echoing in his ears. “I do like you,” he expressed in a quiet voice to diffuse the sudden tension in the room. What else should he say? “I told you, didn't I? I like you. I really do. You–you're my friend. We are–”

Dan sniffled angrily. “I don't want to be your friend!” he shouted in a shaky voice. “Stop pretending!” His lips quivered, and he stared at the floor tearfully. “You're a liar.”

Phil stared at him with a lump in his throat. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he whispered, turning away with a clenched jaw. “Can we–let's watch a movie, or–or do you want tea? Are you hungry? Oh, wait, I have work to do. I have to do my laun–”

“Please.”

Phil stopped, glancing back at Dan silently. Dan stared wordlessly at the floor with a puffy, tear-filled face, and Phil's chest felt unbelievably tight. “Dan . . . ” he mumbled reluctantly, “I was–I don't know what to say, I–we are friends. I do care about you. I'm not lying, but–it's just–I can't–”

“I don't want to be your friend. I don't want you to say you like me,” Dan sniffed, and his voice was heavy with grief. “Y-you're always lying and acting like you don't understand me. You're a liar.” His wings covered him like a cocoon, and he looked more vulnerable than ever. “You know what I'm talking about,” he whispered brokenly, “You know.”

Phil's heart was heavy, and he knew he looked pathetic, just standing there doing absolutely nothing when he knew _exactl_ y what Dan was asking, but he didn't feel like he had a choice. This wasn't the time to look back and reflect on his actions. Everything had a limit. Time was ticking. They could sit there and talk about their feelings, but what good would it do? It would bring nothing but pain. “Let's not talk about–”

“I w-want to know the truth,” Dan blurted in a choked voice, and his face crunched up in pain. “P-please don't lie to me. Please.” He sniffed.

Phil's heart instantly plummeted. “The–the truth? What do you mean?”

Dan wiped his eyes and sniffled. His arms tightened around his knees, and his hands clenched into fists. His eyes remained fixed on the floor as he asked, “Do–do you love me or not?”

Phil's eyes widened in absolute shock. His jaw fell open, and he stared at Dan for several seconds, completely bewildered. His heart thudded, beating faster than ever, and every second felt like forever. His mouth went dry, and he could smell Dan's unique scent in the air. He took a staggering step back, collapsing against the wall. He didn't know how to react to the unanticipated question, and he wasn't sure what kind of expression he should make. He stared at Dan's heartbroken face, and for some weird reason, all he could do was let out a loud, nervous laugh. “I–that's . . . Dan, this is not–” He swallowed and rubbed his forehead. “Love is a strong word, isn't it? I–I don't know what to . . . ” he trailed off with a scared gulp.

Dan stared up at him earnestly, waiting for an answer, and Phil didn't know what to say. His thoughts were all tangled up, and his emotions were all over the place. There were just two days left. How did this happen? How did he end up in such a situation? He knew it was his own fault, and his chest was throbbing with guilt. He had decided a long time ago that he would say goodbye to Dan one day, but he didn't think it would be this hard. His whole body was ice cold, and shards were twisting in his gut. This was it. This was the end. This was exactly how this relationship was fated to end. He always knew it, but the pain he felt was worse than he had imagined. It was a bitter pain that seeped into his every pore like hot poison.

“No,” he choked out through the lump in his throat, “I don't.”

Phil squeezed his eyes shut and waited. Waited for Dan's look of betrayal and an outburst of heated feelings, but it didn't come. He was expecting a more emotional response; he had imagined Dan would burst into tears or let out a heartbroken scream like in the movies, but the reality was very different.

Dan's fingers curled tightly into trembling fists on his knees, and he stilled completely like a small, injured animal. Tears trickled down his cheeks freely and dropped to his knees one by one. “Oh,” was all he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Phil's heart clenched, and his stomach dropped. The lump in his throat had grown large, making it almost unbearable to speak, but he knew he had to. It was time to put an end to this unattainable dream. “Why are you crying, Dan?” He was genuinely curious. He crouched on the floor next to Dan. “You knew this. I never promised anything. We were just having fun, right? You know there's no way we can be in an actual relationship. I can't stay together with you. That's dangerously stupid.”

Dan bit his bottom lip so tightly that it looked painful. “It didn't . . . it didn't mean anything to you?” Dan sniffled quietly in a shaky voice. More tears filled his eyes, and he stared at Phil hopefully, almost desperately. “A-anything at all?”

Phil stared at his red, shattered expression for a long time. He felt a twinge of pain stabbing his chest repeatedly, and he had an incredible urge to pull Dan into his arms and comfort him, but in the end, he couldn't. Anthony's words distantly echoed in his mind, again and again. Dan was only with him for a mere few more days, and he had desperately wanted to make it unforgettable, but ultimately, it wouldn't mean anything. It wouldn't change anything. He didn't _love_ Dan. Even if he did, admitting it would be unnecessary at this point. All he could do right now was be honest with Dan. He had never wanted a relationship, and he had been sure Dan felt the same. “No,” he confirmed in a quiet, tense voice, “It didn't.”

Dan flinched visibly and recoiled back with a broken sob, his face crumbling into a miserable broken-hearted expression. The lump in Phil's throat was intolerable, and he didn't even know what he was actually doing. What was he doing? “I never wanted a relationship with you. You knew that,” he choked out truthfully, swallowing his emotions. “We're too different. I never had any plans to meet you again. I'm sorry.”

Dan's quiet sobs were the only sounds in the room, and he was crying so hard that he was gasping for breath. He wiped his eyes furiously, averting his eyes in shame. Phil's heart squeezed painfully, and his hands itched to touch and reassure. He never thought their journey would come to an end so soon. He had tried desperately to stretch their time together as far as he could, but it truly was an impossible dream to have. “You can . . .” he bit his lip roughly. “You can stay here for two more days, but other than that, I don't think I can do anything for you. I'm sorry.”

Dan stilled and quieted. His expression suddenly went blank, and his puffy, tear-stained face stared at Phil brokenly. The absolutely crushed look on his face made Phil want to cry. He looked shocked, grief-stricken and completely shattered. His eyebrows were creased with sadness, and he looked so completely destroyed that it made Phil want to bang his head against the wall and punish himself. His throat felt choked up with emotions, and his hands automatically balled into fists. “Dan, I–”

“You're a liar,” Dan sniffed so quietly that Phil had to strain his ears to listen. His wings lifted slowly, and he let go of his legs, rising to his feet shakily. “You're a liar!” he choked out in tears before marching forward and pulling open the bedroom door.

Phil's eyes widened in shock, and he rushed after Dan in panic, his hand shooting out to grasp Dan's wrist. Dan clenched his hands into fists and slapped Phil's hand away. “Don't,” he snapped tearfully, sniffing vulnerably. He outstretched his wings and stepped to the window. “D-don't touch me right now.”

Phil's heart shattered instantly, and the crushing sadness that hit him made his knees tremble. He didn't think Dan would leave immediately. He felt unprepared. He didn't want Dan to just . . . disappear like this. He wanted _more_. “No, Dan, wait–I–” he blurted desperately. Phil was greedy even at a time like this. He was so fucking greedy and selfish to the point he was ashamed of himself. He didn't want to let Dan leave without receiving a proper closure. He had hurt Dan immensely, but he was still just looking out for himself, thinking only of himself. He truly was despicable. “Don't leave–please, I–stay for two more days. Please. Two more days and then you can–” He reached out again, grabbing Dan's arm hurriedly.

“Don't touch me!” Dan bellowed and whirled around so quickly that Phil staggered back in shock. Dan's eyes glowed a bright, threatening red, and his wings rose dangerously, outstretched fully and astonishingly sharp like giant, looming branches. Phil was standing close to Dan, but it happened so quickly that he couldn't even see what had happened clearly. Dan's pointy wings zoomed towards his neck, and his eyes widened in terror. His hand reflexively opened to protect his neck, but before the wings could reach him, Dan extended his hand and grabbed them, holding them back immediately.

Phil stumbled back and stared at Dan in shock and fear. “Wha–” His gaze slipped down to Dan's hands, and he let out a gasp when he saw the blood dripping from his fingertips. Dan's wings had pierced his skin, and it was such a horrifying sight that Phil couldn't even move. “D-dan, what . . . ”

“Please,” Dan whispered in a shaky voice, lifting his blood-covered hand to hide his red eyes. “Please don't come near me.”

Phil's chest ached, and his heart plunged to the floor in pieces. His eyes hurt with unshed tears, and he desperately wanted Dan to stay. He wanted to spend more time with Dan. He wanted to kiss and touch and cuddle with Dan. He wanted to hug Dan and watch movies with him and see him laugh and giggle. He wanted to talk more with Dan. There was so much more he wanted to do, but there wouldn't ever be another chance. They belonged in different places and it was too risky and dangerous. Even if he somehow prolonged Dan's stay, he would still need to inevitably leave one day. There was no way, no excuse, no miracles, to make him stay. Nothing would work in the end, and every effort he made would be ultimately pointless.

“I'm sorry . . . ” Dan sniffed, turning away from him like he was ashamed of himself. “I . . . I–”

Phil's heart slammed into his throat, heavier than a concrete beam and more painful than anything he had ever experienced. He looked up with a startled blue gaze and saw Dan's cheeks wet with tears, a look of goodbye written on his face. Phil's knees wobbled, and it made him tremble to his core.

“It wasn't ‘nothing’ for me,” Dan murmured, opening the window shakily. “I really . . . ”

Dan's wings carried him into the empty air, and he swooped up into the night with his wings outstretched. Phil wanted to call out and beg him to come back. He wanted to ask him to stay. He stared emptily with his heart sinking deep into his stomach, his mind full of so much guilt that it was hard to breathe.

Dan turned suddenly, halting in the air and facing him. He didn't meet Phil's eyes, but he looked like he had a lot to say. “I love you,” he mumbled before fluttering his wings and ascending to the starry sky, disappearing without a trace in the blink of an eye. It happened so abruptly, so unexpectedly, that Phil was frozen on the same spot for several minutes, staring at the window blankly without knowing what to do. His entire body was numb, and his eyes were wide as he stared at the window in disbelief.

He blinked repeatedly, and his throat closed up and choked him. He melted to the floor with his hands buried in his hair, feeling a numb haze enveloping him. “Dammit,” he murmured in a strangled voice. Everything around him was suddenly so quiet that he could hear his own heartbeat. “I'm such a fucking idiot.”


	34. A day without you

Phil's first instinct after awakening early in the morning was to extend his hand drowsily to pull Dan closer to his chest. His head was still in a faraway place, lost in his dreams. The atmosphere during the early hours of dawn, just before sunrise, was dark, slightly damp and a little chilly. His feet were frozen and stiff, and he kicked his legs sluggishly, searching for Dan's limbs so he could twirl it around them and soak up his warmth. His hands returned empty, and his feet found no one. He was completely alone on his bed, alone and frigid.

The memories of the night before poured into his brain, and clarity returned to his mind. Almost spontaneously, a sinking feeling, a painful, severe sinking feeling, occupied his chest. He could feel his chest ache and his heart thump numbly. His eyes opened slowly, and he stared at his stupid ceiling with a lump in his throat. He felt lethargic and listless, like his entire body was squashed under a concrete beam. The weight of his guilt and regrets was unbearable, and he felt completely crushed under it.

“Fuck,” he whispered in a shaky voice, sitting up and dropping his head into his hands in sadness. It was a weird kind of pain, like a dull, squeezing, suffocating feeling in his chest. He felt adrift and aimless, like he had suddenly lost a purpose he had found. He didn't know what to do anymore. He couldn't remember what his life had been like before he met Dan. He couldn't remember what he usually did all day before he met Dan. He couldn't remember what he used to do early in the morning before he met Dan. Who was he before he met Dan?

Phil didn't even feel like getting up from his bed, but he knew he had to. He wanted to stay in his bed all day and wallow uselessly in his sorrow and self-hatred, but he knew he couldn't. Life had to go on, with or without Dan. His chest squeezed in pain at the thought of Dan, but he bit his lip roughly and forced himself to get up. Everything in him wanted to stay in his bed and stare at the ceiling, but he gathered every bit of his leftover energy and quietly ambled to his bathroom to brush his teeth. It would be fine. It wasn't his first breakup. He knew the pain would go away eventually. He would surely get over it with time and forget–

Phil stilled near the sink, his bare feet frozen on the cold tiles of his bathroom. His throat constricted when he saw Dan's toothbrush near his own. His heart sank and all of his energy drained from his body. “Fuck this,” he muttered under his breath, turning back around and heading to the kitchen. He swallowed with a clenched jaw and urged himself to calm down on the way. It didn't matter, he assured himself. It was just a small setback. It would be okay. He would be okay after downing a fresh, hot cup of tea. It would calm his agitated nerves and soothe his mind. It would help him to come down from up in the clouds and back to reality.

Phil stalked stubbornly into his kitchen. He turned on the stove, placed the kettle to boil and grabbed his mug, slamming it down on the counter abruptly. He knew the moment he turned around, he would remember the peaceful morning routine he had with Dan. He would remember the many _many_ boring conversations and pointless bickering. Suddenly, there was Dan in _everything_. Every piece of furniture, every nook and corner, every small useless thing had some kind of memory attached to it.

“Dammit. Get a grip, Phil,” he muttered under his breath, curling his hands into fists in annoyance. “Stop thinking about him. It's over.”

Phil grabbed his tea when it was done and instantly left the kitchen, avoiding all and every thought of Dan. The convenient arrangement he had with Dan was never meant to last. It was supposed to end just like this. They would probably never meet again, and that was completely okay. It was fine. It was alright. He would eventually forget Dan and move on. It wasn't a big deal. It really wasn't a big deal. He didn't care about it. He would be okay. It was all okay . . .

Phil sat back on the sofa and placed his tea down on the coffee table, staring into it emptily. His whole apartment was so quiet, so eerily quiet. It was a lonely, echoing silence that pricked his ears painfully. He took a deep breath to calm down, remaining silent as he slowly pushed all thoughts of Dan to the back of his mind. He cleared his mind, and he felt a little better than before. He sighed in relief and bit his lip harshly, frowning confusedly when he felt something poke his back. He shuffled aside absently and grabbed the thing irritably, pulling it out from behind him.

It was a stuffed penguin.

Phil stilled completely and stared at it numbly for several, aching moments before slamming it against the floor in anger. “Fuck!” he screamed in frustration.

_“I love you.”_

“Dammit . . .” Phil's eyes filled with tears for the very first time, and he felt so lonely that it hurt to breathe. He dropped his face into his hands despondently, regretting everything. He had been so happy with Dan, pulled in completely by his soft, dimpled smiles and gentle expressions. He loved being with Dan. He loved watching him smile and laugh. He loved living with Dan, and he wished it could continue, but he didn't know how to make that happen. No matter how sad or heartbroken he felt, there was just no way for them to be together. This was all for the best, and he needed to accept that.

There was a sudden knock on the door, and Phil rose to his feet instantly with wide, hopeful eyes, his heart beating rapidly. He immediately blinked at his stupidity and desperation. There was absolutely no way Dan would ever enter his apartment through the front door. He didn't have any reason to knock on Phil's door when he could jump inside through the window. Phil wiped his eyes hastily and ambled tiredly towards the door. It was probably Anthony or PJ. Louise was busy, and Chris rarely came to see him. It didn't really matter who it was. Phil had no interest in seeing anyone other than Dan at the moment.

Phil opened the door silently, looking up and frowning at the person standing in front of him. “Er . . .”

James waved. “Hey,” he greeted cheerfully, standing on his doorstep fully dressed in his Hunter uniform.

“Uh, hello,” Phil replied awkwardly, and there was an unsettling silence for several seconds. Phil's heart thumped nervously. “Do you need any–”

“Is everything alright?” James inquired in a professional tone, “Did you notice anything suspicious lately?”

“Wha–what?” Phil stammered, staring at James fearfully.

James blinked. “Er.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I'm sorry. We're investigating this building, and I'm just going around asking everyone if they noticed anything suspicious. It's nothing serious. You don't have to worry.”

“O-oh,” Phil stuttered, relaxing a little, “No, I haven't noticed anything like that. Sorry.”

James nodded. “Thanks.” He turned and began to walk away. “Well, just make sure to close all windows and doors at night.”

Phil scowled tiredly. He didn't plan to close his window, but he agreed outwardly, “Okay.”

He stared blankly for a few seconds before closing the door with a deep, lethargic sigh. He turned around and decided to head back to his bedroom. His thoughts were all over the place, and there was nothing to occupy his mind. He didn't feel like drinking tea, and he was too tired to cook. He didn't feel like eating anyway. It was probably better to go back to sleep. Nothing was better than sleep. He nodded to himself with determination and retreated to his bedroom silently. 

~*~

“Phil,” Luke breathed in surprise, opening the door fully and frowning at him. “You didn't even call. What are you doing here?”

Phil fell forward against his body weakly, wrapping his arms around Luke and exhaling in relief. He had no energy left in him to speak or explain. He just wanted to get away from his claustrophobic apartment and feel someone's warmth against his body. He wanted to be with someone who would offer comfort but wouldn't push him to talk or demand explanations. He was feeling broken, and he didn't know how to get rid of the sinking feeling in his chest. He had never felt a pain so strong that he didn't even know what to do with his life anymore.

Luke patted his back worriedly. “Hey, you okay?” he asked in concern, “What happened?”

Phil stiffened immediately, and his heart throbbed with pain. After two entire days of wallowing in his self-pity and guilt, he had finally gotten frustrated with the utter silence in his apartment. He had pulled on his jeans and taken a small walk. Before he knew it, he found himself standing in front of Luke's apartment building. 

“I . . .” Phil swallowed the lump in his throat and pulled back, grabbing the collar of Luke's shirt and slamming him against the nearest wall. He leaned in hastily and cupped his jaw roughly. He wanted to lose himself in pleasure and forget about Dan. This was the best, most efficient way to move on. It was familiar and normal for him. Dan wasn't his boyfriend. Dan didn't mean anything to him. They were never in a relationship and forgetting him should be easy.

“Hey. Hey. Whoa,” Luke exhaled breathlessly, turning his head to the side to avoid being kissed. He placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back. “Stop.” 

Phil stared at him and choked out. “What?”

Luke frowned at him, looking troubled. “Look, let's talk first, okay?” he expressed worriedly, “Let's sit and talk.”

Phil chewed on his bottom lip in distress. His fragile mask of indifference crumbled, and his forehead thumped against Luke's shoulder. “Okay,” he whispered shakily.

Luke placed his hands on Phil's shoulder and squeezed gently. “Do you want something to drink? Tea, maybe? You like it, right?” he murmured in a concerned voice, “Drink some tea and calm down.”

Phil's throat closed up and he felt like the most pathetic person on the planet. He pulled away completely and quietly took off his shoes with an empty expression on his face. Luke closed the front door and invited him in with a kind smile. “Wait here.”

Phil silently sat on the sofa and waited for Luke. Luke's apartment was silent except for the noises of him shuffling around in the kitchen and making tea. It grated on Phil's nerves tremendously, and he had an impulsive urge to cover his ears, but he obediently sat still. It took Luke ten minutes to come back with a warm mug of tea. He handed it to Phil politely with a smile and sat down at the end of the sofa, looking at him contemplatively. 

Phil's cold hands wrapped around the mug and warmth seeped into his palm. He blew on it to cool it, quietly watching the steam rise up into the air. Luke studied him silently, and Phil finally took a small sip of his tea. His heart plummeted almost immediately and he put it down on the coffee table with a loud clatter. “It's sweet,” he whispered in a small voice. “Too sweet.”

Luke blinked. “Oh, sorry. I didn't–”

Phil's chest ached. “It's fine,” he managed to murmur. 

Luke stared at his tense face for a long time. “You look awful,” he huffed softly. “Did something happen? I've never seen you like this.”

Phil didn't know what to say. Everything was such a mess, and he was so lost. He didn't know what to do anymore. “It's nothing,” he mumbled quietly, intertwining his hands tightly and staring blankly at the floor without another word. Why did he come here? He couldn't believe how despicable he had become. He was now troubling everyone around him for no reason. 

Luke's kind expression turned into concern, and he stared at Phil for several minutes, looking conflicted. “Is it something you can't tell me?”

Phil bit his lip hesitantly but gave him a reluctant nod. “Sorry.”

Luke sighed softly. “It's alright. We all have secrets,” he admitted with a smile and pulled off his shirt, leaning forward. He placed his hand on Phil's chest and pushed him back. “Well, if this can help you . . .” he whispered before bending down and placing a kiss on his mouth. “Let's do it.”

Phil didn't hesitate or pause. He placed his palm on Luke's cheek and connected their lips, kissing him roughly. His free hand gripped his shoulder and wandered down his back, fingers brushing the blades of his shoulder and the rippling muscles of his body. He breathed deeply and flipped them over, pushing Luke's toned body down against the sofa. His tongue slipped into Luke's mouth, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the strange feeling of intense guilt that had suddenly settled at the bottom of his stomach. His mouth moved, his tongue explored and his hand roamed all over Luke's familiar body, but it felt different. _Weird._

Every touch was reluctant. With every breath, the guilt in his stomach rose upwards just an inch. It wasn't the same. Luke's lips were odd and rougher than the ones he was used to. His face had a different shape, and it felt odd against his palm. His cheeks weren't soft. His body was colder. The smell of his cologne was disgusting, and his hair was too long and thin. It didn't get tangled in Phil's fingers, and it all felt so _wrong._ The guilt in his stomach shot up to his chest and crept into his throat, clogging it up painfully. He felt breathless and empty. He couldn't shake off the feeling at all.

Dan's face inevitably popped into his mind, making Phil halt uncomfortably. He swallowed the lump in his throat and pulled back with a clenched jaw and pain in his blue eyes. He panted helplessly and turned away, dropping his face into his hands in frustration. “Dammit,” he muttered to himself.

Luke's eyebrows vanished into his hairline. He sat up with a frown, looking dishevelled and confused. “What's wrong?”

Phil pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “I–I'm sorry,” he answered remorsefully. “I shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry.”

Luke's expression was warm, and he placed a hand on Phil's shoulder. “It's okay. You don't have to explain anything if you don't want to,” he comforted in a kind voice. He halted and hesitated for a few, unnoticeable seconds, and opened his mouth again, “Listen.” He squeezed Phil's shoulder tightly. “I know we're not that close as friends, but . . . but if you ever need someone to talk to, I'll always be willing to listen. I'm not very good at giving advice, but I can listen, you know?”

Phil swallowed quietly and stared at Luke for several seconds, surprised by his suggestion. He felt extremely thankful, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “I . . . I hurt someone.”

Luke's gaze softened and turned into something a bit more considerate. He sat cross-legged next to Phil and smiled. “Was this person important to you?”

Phil gulped and turned away. “Yeah.” He stared at his empty fingers and swallowed. “Yeah, but I . . . I never really told him he was important, you know? I don't think he knows . . .”

Luke gave him a sympathetic look. “What did you do? How did you hurt him?”

Phil bit his lip guiltily, and his chest ached. “I was–I was cruel, I think. I said things I shouldn't have. I . . . I didn't have a choice.”

“That's not true,” Luke explained with a raised eyebrow, “We almost always have a choice, Phil. When people say they didn't have a choice, what they mean is that there were no _easy_ choices. We do have a choice most of the time, but the only problem is that one is a hard choice, and one is an easy one.” He looked contemplative. “I don't know what happened, but I think you could've at least chosen not to be cruel.”

_“Talk to him about it. Explain it to him. He probably doesn't understand.”_

Phil blinked, and his eyes widened when he remembered Anthony's words. He pursed his lips and dropped his empty gaze to the floor. His guilt increased even more. “Yeah.”

Luke sighed. “Why don't you try apologising to him? I think it'll make you feel better, and it's the right thing to do,” he suggested.

Phil swallowed and stared at the floor for several seconds. Dan was gone, and there was no way to apologise anymore. He made the choice to be unreasonably cruel, and there was nothing he could do to make it right. It was _over_. “Yeah . . .” he whispered in a shaky voice, “T-that's a good idea.”

~*~

Phil strolled down the dimly-lit street. It was almost 8 p.m. but there was not a soul to be seen on the road. There was complete silence all around him, and he quietly made his way to his apartment. As he walked alone, his mind automatically drifted to thoughts of Dan. He wondered where he was, and how he was. He wondered if Dan had finally gone back home. His home was probably in the Village, and his mannerisms suggested he was from a rich family. Winged men inside the Village were supposed to be wealthy, and Phil wondered if Dan would ever come to see him. He didn't really need to anymore, but Phil wanted him to.

Phil scoffed at just how pathetic he had become and swerved around a corner, entering a familiar alley which opened to his street.

“Connor.”

Phil stilled, and his eyes widened in panic. A small gasp threatened to break out of his lips. He clasped a hand on his mouth and jumped back to hide behind the wall, breathing deeply in relief. There were two people, a winged man and a woman, in the dark alley, standing close to the wall. They didn't appear to have noticed Phil, and he swallowed nervously, hiding from their view. Phil had briefly glanced at them, and they hadn't looked like normal Winged men. Their clothes were formal and brand new, and they were wearing full face masks to hide their identities. 

“Hello,” The other man, Connor, greeted. “Lydia.”

Phil narrowed his eyes and sighed lethargically. He just wanted to go home and collapse on his bed for the rest of the night. He wondered if he should turn around and take another route to return home, but this way was shorter, and he didn't have the energy or motivation to take the longer route. He decided to wait for a few minutes for them to leave and take the short cut instead. He sighed at his misfortune and leaned over emptily to take a look.

“Any new information?” The man asked quietly. His face was hidden from sight, but Phil could see his broad shoulders and neatly combed hair. He was wearing a pure white T-shirt under a navy-blue waistcoat and expensive-looking trousers. His wings were huge and poked out of two holes behind his back. There were zippers under the holes, and Phil realised that they were specially made clothes to fit winged men.

The winged woman shook her head sadly. “Nothing. Hunters are looking for him everywhere, but they haven't found anything yet,” she answered in a confident voice, “We're safe.”

It was the first time Phil had seen a Winged woman, and he could tell she was gorgeous without even looking at her face. Even with a mask, she exuded elegance. She had long black hair that flowed down to her waist in thick, wavy locks. Her wings were smaller but shined more beautifully. She was wearing tight black pants and a white button-up shirt that hugged her small, lithe figure. “Where is he, Connor?” She let out a huff and folded her arms across her chest. “What is he thinking? Why would he leave at a time like this?”

Connor carded his fingers through his hair. “I don't know, Lydia,” he answered, and sounded frustrated, “King Dominic wasn't this ill before.”

_King Dominic?_ Phil didn't know the name of the King, and he wasn't aware of his illness either. There wasn't anything about that on the news. He had briefly heard about the Prince's disappearance, and he had been slightly curious before, but he couldn't really bring himself to care anymore. He was done with everything, and all he wanted to do was go home and sleep for the rest of the night.

“What about Theo?” Connor asked, and his voice sounded hopeful. “Theo probably knows something, right? Anything?”

“No.” Lydia clicked her tongue. “Nothing.”

“Oh . . .”

Lydia freed her hands and paced back and forth irritably, the clicking noise of her heels echoing throughout the alley. “Why would he even leave the castle in the first place?” she questioned haughtily. Phil sighed heavily and turned away, leaning back against the wall and waiting for them to leave. “If he isn't dead, I'll kill him myself!”

“Lydia,” Connor said in an annoyed voice, “We're running out of time. If Dominic's condition doesn't get better, I'll have to take his place.” Phil furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. What were they talking about? “Do something, Lydia. We need him.”

There was silence for a long time. “I know, Connor,” she conveyed in a tense voice, “We'll find him. Don't worry. Theo's doing her best too. We're trying. I'll call you immediately if we find anything.”

Phil waited and waited impatiently. There was a harsh fluttering noise, and then everything went completely silent. He leaned over slightly to look and found no one. Sighing in relief, he decided to return home for today.


	35. The truth about bonds

Phil lay back on the sofa lifelessly and stared blankly at the ceiling, feeling bored and languid. His right arm dangled off the side, and his legs were sprawled across the seat in a torpid state. It had already been three whole days since Dan had left in tears, and Phil's guilt was slowly eating him up. He had used the previous day to thoroughly search his entire apartment and clean every little feather he could find. He had reluctantly picked up stuffed penguins and other little things that reminded him of Dan. Seeing it everywhere was hindering the healing of his heart, and he had tossed them hastily into his closet, locking them away from his sight.

Phil sighed heavily and closed his eyes in agitation. Quiet murmurs and shuffling noises reached his ears, and he distantly recognized Anthony's voice. He stayed still and remained in the exact same position. The footsteps and silent conversation and laughs in between got louder and louder before stopping completely. There was an abrupt silence for a while, and he could feel the presence of someone else next to him.

“Phil?”

“The door was wide open, Phil. What are you thinking? You're not taking this seriously, are you?”

Phil opened his eyes slowly, and his tired gaze turned to Anthony and PJ who were peering down at him in confusion. “Hey,” he whispered in a small voice, sitting up lazily.

Anthony's eyes widened in surprise, and he stared at Phil with a frown. Phil avoided his curious gaze and stared down at his empty hands. He already knew he looked awful. He was aware. He hadn't slept in two days, and he probably had dark circles under his eyes. He had barely eaten anything, and he couldn't even step into the shower without remembering Dan's dumb face. He felt so pathetic.

“What's wrong?” Anthony asked with wide, shocked eyes. His face was full of concern. “What happened? Why do you look–” He cut himself off abruptly, a look of realization dawning on his worried face. “Wait, where's Dan?”

Phil flinched back at the mention of his name, biting his lip so hard that it ached badly. “He . . .” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “He left.”

There was a stunned silence for a while, and the tension in the air was so thick he could taste it. He deliberately kept his teary eyes fixed on his intertwined hands, struggling to control the emotions that were choking his throat. Anthony stared at him, going completely white as if he had seen a ghost. “He left?”

Phil nodded, and he saw PJ narrow his eyes at him. “You didn't go after him?” PJ asked in a curious tone.

Phil blinked, and a bitter laugh slipped out of him. “No, why would I go after him?” He scoffed derisively, his hands clenching into tight fists. “It's not like–like we were together or anything. It doesn't really matter to me. I don't care. I was just trying to help him. What am I supposed to do after I go after him? That's ridiculous. I never–I don't care about him. I mean, he's a Winged man. He can't stay here. I'm not saying I want him to. I just–” Phil stopped abruptly when he saw the bewildered look on Anthony's face. He gulped and averted his eyes hastily. “I don't care. It's fine. Thank god he's gone. I'm overjoyed about it.”

Silence remained supreme, and Phil dropped his gaze to the floor. Anthony blinked at him. “Wow,” he said after a quiet moment, “That was . . . that was kinda pathetic.”

“We didn't ask whether you care about him or not,” PJ told Phil with an arched eyebrow, “Why are you explaining it to us?”

“B-because . . . well . . .” Phil bit his lip harshly and swallowed, dropping his face into his hands in shame. “Fuck. I don't know.”

PJ strolled around the coffee table and fell back into a chair, crossing his legs as he scrutinized Phil with narrowed eyes. “I knew it,” he admitted with a long sigh, “There's no way a Winged man would touch another person so intimately without a reason. There was something else going on.”

Phil stared at his feet in silence, not knowing what to answer. Anthony paced back and forth in front of him, looking frustrated and worried. He turned to Phil with a glare. “Why did he leave?” he asked in anger, “What did you do? What did you say to him?”

Phil baulked at that, his brows creasing in confusion. “Why do you think I said something?”

“Because I've seen it, you asshole!” Anthony grumbled, “I've seen the way he looks at you. He would _never_ leave your side without a reason,” he huffed with a sigh. “Why do you keep complicating things?”

PJ's eyes widened, and a small, understanding gasp left his mouth. “Did you have sex with him?” he questioned hastily, staring at Phil with slight anger.

Phil glanced back and forth between them, baffled and a bit disoriented by both of their unprecedented reactions. “No, I didn't. We just–” he stopped abruptly and took a deep breath, deciding to be completely honest without holding anything back. “We did do . . . uh, other . . . stuff . . .” he managed to stammer out awkwardly.

“Ah.” PJ blanched notably. His faintly miffed expression turned into something more intense and grim. He glanced awkwardly at Anthony and rubbed the back of his neck with a quiet, displeased sigh. A small knowing look passed between them, and Anthony dropped back into a chair next to PJ, looking extremely annoyed.

“It's exactly what you think it is, PJ,” Anthony muttered in vexation, glowering at Phil with a clenched jaw, “How does it feel to ruin someone's life, Phil?”

Phil frowned, and Anthony's words stung badly. “What the fuck did I do?” he snapped in anger, “You're not making any fucking sense.”

PJ huffed. “Anthony, you're overreacting. Phil didn't know.”

Anthony rolled his eyes and scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at Phil. “I told this asshole to keep his distance. I fucking warned him!” he shouted, “Why can't he keep his dick in his fucking pants?”

“Oh, come on!” Phil barked loudly, losing patience and his composure, “We're both adults! Dan's not a little child. You sound so fucking condescending. Why are you both acting like I–”

“Did he give you feathers?” PJ cut in sharply, his voice authoritative and demanding a clear answer. “Did you accept it?”

Phil frowned in bafflement. “What are you talking about?” he asked in confusion, “Anthony asked me the same thing two months ago.”

PJ shot Anthony a domineering look, and Anthony averted his eyes guiltily. “It's your fault too, Anthony,” he accused in a stern voice, “You should've made Dan leave a long time ago. It was a stupid decision from the start. Dan was better off on his own.” He leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. “Phil didn't know anything. You should have at least explained it to him. It's partially your fault for thinking someone this oblivious–” He pointed at Phil with a smirk. “–can handle it.”

Phil sighed and scratched the back of his head. “Dan did give me feathers, but I didn't take it.”

Anthony stared at his feet in silence, and PJ leaned forward, weaving his fingers together with a grave expression on his face. “Phil, Winged people look like us, but they have very different values and rituals. You–” he hesitated, glancing at Anthony who nodded. “You shouldn't have touched Dan. Winged people have certain rules, and touching is considered very inappropriate. They only touch each other after exchanging feathers or bond–”

Phil was beginning to get annoyed by their terse statements and cryptic way of handling things. Feathers? Rituals? Touching? His mind was spinning with the effort he was making to follow this obscure conversation. It was all incomprehensible garbage that his impatient heart couldn't understand. “Can you please speak in normal language?” he snapped in agitation, “Say it more cleary, godammit!”

“Winged people mate for life, you idiot!” Anthony blurted out loudly.

Phil blinked and settled back. Suddenly, it felt like his heart had stopped beating in his chest. “W-what?” he whispered in shock, his eyes wide. “What does that mean?”

Anthony pursed his lips and melted back tiredly in his chair. PJ sighed next to him. “You can have as many partners as you want. You can fall in love again and again, as many times as you want, but winged people can't do that. Winged men mate for life. They're strictly monogamous,” PJ explained in a quiet voice, and his every word dropped against Phil's eardrums loudly like pebbles. “Due to this, Winged men spend a lot of time searching for suitable partners. Many Winged men decide to stay single to avoid being heartbroken. Breaking up or divorce is pretty fucking rare.”

“It does happen though,” Anthony chimed in.

Phil's throat was tight, and his hands trembled faintly. His heart throbbed with pain at the thought of Dan being alone for the rest of his life, and he had a sudden, impulsive urge to see Dan and apologize to him for everything he had done. “Oh.” He dropped his head into his hands shamefully.

“You said he gave you feathers?” PJ asked in a solemn voice.

Phil's chest ached badly but he managed to nod. “Yeah,” he murmured.

There was an odd silence for a while, and Phil looked up to see a concerned expression on Anthony's face. “Well, it's pretty clear he wanted to bond.”

Phil swallowed the lump in his throat, a heavy feeling of sadness and dread overwhelming him. “What?”

“You already know that Winged people dislike being touched,” PJ began cautiously, giving Phil a look of pity that made him want to disappear completely. “When they see a potential partner, they can smell it.” He pointed at his nose as an explanation. “They have a great sense of smell. They can smell if the other person is compatible. When they smell a suitable partner, they offer their feathers. It's like an invitation to . . . date? I guess. When a Winged man gives you feathers, it usually means that they see you as a potential partner, and they are giving you permission to touch them, kiss them, make them fall in love.”

Anthony nodded in agreement. “Usually, couples only touch each other after feathers are exchanged. In the old days, only Winged women used to give out feathers, but lately, both men and women propose to each other.” He took a deep breath and continued, “After exchanging feathers, the man normally tries to woo the woman. After a few dates or meetings, if they fall in love with each other then that's it for them. They stay together until they die.”

PJ nodded in agreement. “That's when most of them decide to bond. I'm not a winged man so I'm not sure how this bonding thing happens, but for most people, it happens after sex. Sex is what, uh, seals the bond, I guess. There is probably some kind of ritual involved, but I don't know about that.” PJ squinted his eyes and looked contemplative. “If a couple is not bonded, there's still a chance that they might be able to find a different partner, but after the bond is complete, there's no chance at all. There's also a rumour that winged men are physically incapable of falling in love twice.”

“What about that other rumour?” Anthony asked curiously.

PJ arched an eyebrow. “Which one? There are a lot of them.”

“The one about feeling each other's pain,” Anthony confessed, “I've heard that bonded couples can feel each other's pain and smell what the other is feeling or something like that. I'm a little interested in that. It sounds awesome.”

“Eh,” PJ gave Anthony a disgusted look, “I don't know. It's probably not true. I believe in science, and it just sounds like something out of a shitty fairytale. This is real life.”

Anthony shrugged. “Anything is possible.”

PJ sighed and looked up at Phil suspiciously. “You didn't have sex with Dan, right? There's still a chance that Dan might be able to find another partner.”

Anthony narrowed his eyes dubiously. “Didn't you see how strongly Dan was attached to Phil? I've heard that sometimes bonds can take shape before–”

“Besides,” PJ interjected again, shooting Anthony a sharp look that shut him up. “I have never seen a Winged man choosing a human as their partner. You don't have feathers so you can't exchange feathers. Maybe Dan was mistaken. He'll probably find someone else. You don't have to worry.”

Phil felt a sharp, sudden pang of utter misery piercing through his chest at the small, mere mention of Dan finding someone else. The heart-rending thoughts of Dan kissing another person, laughing without a care, grinning that stupid grin in front of someone else left a sickening, utterly disgusting taste in his mouth. His hands balled into fists, and he didn't have the mental strength to look up and observe his friends' expressions. Pathetic. He was pathetic. “Good,” he choked out bitterly, “Everything's fine then, right? He'll find someone else and he won't come here again.”

PJ narrowed his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, that's right,” he said blankly, “You don't have to worry about Dan anymore. Move on with your life.”

Phil swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Dan is no longer your problem. You can happily go back to your life of solitude,” PJ told him with a shrug. “I'm sure you're . . . _overjoyed.”_

Phil clenched his jaw. “Yup.” His hands balled into fists. “This is what you wanted, right? You guys got what you wanted. You wanted him to leave, and he's gone now. Are you happy? I bet you are.”

Anthony frowned at him with a look of annoyance. “Hey, we didn't do anything. We've done nothing but support you wholeheartedly. Why are you talking like that? It's your own fucking fault for being an absolute idiot and falling in love with a winged–”

“Anthony!” PJ warned with wide eyes, cutting him off with a sharp glare.

Anthony stilled, and Phil could see the colour drain from his face. At that moment, Phil distinctly saw the looks of pity and disappointment they were shooting him. His heart plummeted, and his eyes went blurry. His surroundings were covered with a hazy mist, and his hands clenched tightly into fists on his knees. Under their scrutinizing gazes, he felt completely ripped open and utterly vulnerable. It was as if they were looking right at him, staring deep into his suppressed feelings for Dan and pulling it out from inside him. It was _terrifying_ , and he didn't know how to deal with it.

“Get out,” he whispered in a broken voice, staring at his feet and holding back tears painfully. “Leave me alone.”

PJ and Anthony exchanged guilty glances. “Phil, we really didn't mean to–”

“Get out!” Phil screamed in anguish, swallowing the lump in his throat and rising to his feet unsteadily. He turned away without waiting for a reply and stomped to his bedroom blindly, opening the door and slamming it shut. All noises ceased, and his heart sank to the pits of his stomach. In the dark, silent atmosphere of his bedroom, he felt utterly alone and dejected. His feet shakily carried him forward and he fell to his bed emptily, curling into a ball with a lump in his throat. He felt pathetic and stupid.

_“He'll probably find someone else. You don't have to worry.”_

Phil's throat felt tight, and there was a feeling of utter despair in his chest that was slowly rising upwards like acidity. The picture of Dan's tearful, hurt face, the betrayed look in his eyes, and his final words haunted Phil. It echoed repeatedly in his mind. His own cruel words, the way he had treated Dan came crashing back to him, and he felt ashamed of himself. He regretted it more than anything, and his chest ached when he thought of Dan.

_“I love you.”_

“Dammit,” Phil choked out tearfully, squeezing his eyes shut. Anthony's words were stirring inside his mind persistently. The sinking sensation in his stomach refused to abate, and he couldn't help but wonder when it had started. When did he get so inseparably attached to Dan? When did he start caring about Dan so deeply? A part of him had known about it all along. He had been aware of it in the back of his mind, but he had adamantly refused to acknowledge it. It was easier that way.

It began with discreet glances when he thought Dan wasn't looking and unnecessary touches that made his heartbeat quicken. His feelings of affection evolved into something more when he started to take care of Dan and did things for him he had never done for his past boyfriends. Without knowing, he somehow started to notice all of Dan's quirks and habits, falling deeper and deeper. Without asking, he started to understand what Dan needed and when he needed it. He would simply smile at Dan's stubborn antics and listen to his ramblings about pointless, stupid things. He kept getting attached more and more. It was his own fault.

He memorised Dan's favourite movies and songs and snacks and types of candies. He knew the exact amount of sugar and milk Dan took with his tea. He knew which type of clothes he would wear on a particular day. He was always aware of Dan. His feelings turned into something more from the moment he began to wrap Dan in a blanket without needing to ask. He knew something was wrong when he started to notice Dan's frustration without any clear indication. He just _knew._ He could tell what Dan wanted with a single absent glance. It were all just little, unnoticed gestures, but it was clearly extremely intimate.

Phil swallowed the painful lump in his throat, his hands clenching into fists. He missed Dan, and he finally realised just _how much._

“Ugh,” he sniffed and rolled out of bed, standing up silently and heading to his closet. He pulled it open and stared at the pile of penguin stuffies. He bit his lip shamefully and grabbed one, clutching it tightly in his hand and walking back to his bed silently. He felt like a complete idiot as he stared at the stupid penguin. It was so fucking childish and ugly looking. It was the ugliest, dumbest thing in the entire world, and Phil wanted to throw it, step on it, kick it, _burn_ it, but he was holding it instead . . .

What a fucking mess.

It was just such a pathetically lonely feeling, to miss someone so much that his chest ached—and still being too afraid to admit it.


	36. I want to see Dan

“Phil,” Anthony expressed in surprise, fully opening the door to let him in. “What are you doing here? It's 6 a.m.” he asked with a frown, looking him up and down. His startled expression turned into concern, and he sighed, looking unsettled. “Ugh. You look terrible.”

Phil's face was devoid of any emotion, and he knew it. He couldn't get a wink of sleep because of his jumbled thoughts, and there were bags under his tired eyes. He stumbled forward quietly and sidestepped Anthony without a single word, marching straight to the living room. Anthony and PJ's home was as messy as ever. There were unwashed plates on the coffee table and scattered books and random pieces of garments on the floor. Anthony's T-shirt was hanging from a chair, and PJ's magazines were piled up on the sofa. Everything was untidy and cluttered in the small room, but it still managed to ease Phil's tension. At least, this mess was something familiar.

Phil shoved Anthony's coffee-stained T-shirt to the floor and fell back to the chair, looking up to see PJ's surprised face in front of him. He was lounging on the sofa with a mug of coffee in his hand, his feet propped up on the table. There was a heap of newspaper clippings around him, and he looked like he was sorting through them early in the morning. He raised his eyebrows at Phil. “Good morning.”

Anthony sighed from behind him, stalking towards him with a frown on his face. “What's wrong, Phil?”

Phil swallowed and gathered every bit of his courage. “I–Anthony, I want to . . .” He had thought about it all night long, but there was still some hesitation left inside him. His heart clenched tightly, and he took a deep breath before declaring, “I want to see him.”

There was complete silence for a while, and Phil deliberately stared at the floor, his jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists on his knees. “I want to see him. I want to see Dan. I just–” He couldn't put it into words. He didn't know what he wanted anymore. He didn't know if he wanted to apologize or admit his feelings. He didn't know what he would do if he saw Dan again, but he still wanted to see him. “I can't stop thinking about him. I . . .” He swallowed the lump in his throat and snapped his jaw shut in embarrassment.

When he looked up reluctantly, he saw pity on both of their faces. PJ shrugged, and Anthony sat down next to him with a deep sigh. “It's impossible, Phil,” he responded in an apologetic voice, “We don't even know where he is.” He leaned back and huffed, “Actually, we don't know _anything_ about him. You never asked him. I told you to ask, but you never did.” He sighed. “Isn't it better to use this opportunity to forget him? Move on, mate. He's a winged man. Even if you see him, it's not like you can–”

“Anthony,” PJ interjected in an offended voice, shaking his head at him.

Anthony stopped and glanced at Phil, snapping his jaw shut immediately. “Sorry.”

PJ rolled his eyes and tapped his temple with his forefinger. “Think before you speak, dude,” he told Anthony before turning to Phil with a grim expression on his face. “What do you mean, Phil?”

Phil looked up hesitantly. “What?”

PJ arched an eyebrow. “What do you even want?” he huffed. “You can't just declare that you want to see him without making your intentions clear.”

Phil chewed on his bottom lip and swallowed the unbearable lump in his throat. He didn't quite know the meaning behind his own words. All he knew was that the silence Dan left behind was too much for him to tolerate. He regretted the way he spoke to Dan that day, and he guiltily wished he could undo it. He missed Dan terribly, and he wanted to see him once again. “I don't know,” he admitted in a woeful tone. “I just want to see him.”

PJ stared at him in surprise. “For what?”

Phil sighed in agitation and dropped his face into his hands helplessly. “I don't know!” he blurted in a breaking voice, “I can't sleep. I can't eat. I can't write. I can't do anything! I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm a shitty person, PJ. I'm reckless and selfish. I lie a lot. I always have. You know that. I'm not–I've hurt people before, and I know I'm not a saint. I'm not perfect. I don't plan ahead. I do things when I feel like it. I'm a complete fuck up. I did something horrible, and I want to apologize.” Phil choked out and squeezed his eyes shut. “What am I even saying? Dammit. I–I can't do this, PJ. I want to see him. I don't know what I want to do yet, but I . . . I swear I'll figure it out, okay? I'll figure it out.” His eyes were teary, and his brain was all fuzzy. “I miss him.”

The stunned silence that followed was expected, and it didn't make Phil as embarrassed as he had thought. It felt almost liberating to admit. He had finally dragged his hidden feelings out into the open, and his initial anxiety diminished slightly. He stared down at his hands, waiting nervously for their reactions with a tangled knot in his stomach.

It was Anthony who murmured sympathetically, “We don't know where he lives, Phil. It'll be hard to find him when we–”

“I know,” Phil divulged hesitantly, “I know where he could be.”

Anthony and PJ stared at him with raised eyebrows, surprise clear on their faces. “You do?” PJ questioned in a stunned voice.

Phil nodded reluctantly. “Yeah,” he confirmed steadily. “He took me there once. It was a small cabin near–”

“What?” Anthony interrupted in a shocked voice, staring at him sternly. “He took you there? You went outside with him?”

Phil faltered. “Er, yeah. We went there at night.”

“You . . .” Anthony gasped, glaring at him angrily. “Do you know how dangerous that is, you asshole? You actually went outside with–”

“We were careful!” Phil cut in confidently, leaning forward desperately to explain. “It was dark. I thought it was completely safe. I didn't–”

“No, it wasn't!” Anthony snapped with a grave expression on his face, but he recoiled back immediately with a blink. His mouth fell open in shock. “Wait. Did you just say that you flew with him?”

Phil shrunk back in shame and averted his gaze. “Y-yeah.”

Anthony gaped at him, and he looked conflicted between what to do. It seemed like he was torn between wanting to simultaneously punch him in the face for his stupidity and applaud his blind courage. “What the fuck were you thinking?” he shouted in frustration. “Have you lost your damn mind?”

“Anthony, calm down,” PJ urged in a calm voice, taking a deep breath. “I know you're angry and rightfully so, but this is not the time,” he explained in an exhausted voice, turning to Phil with a sigh. “Let's hear him out.” Anthony frowned down at PJ, opening his mouth to protest but PJ shook his head, and he snapped his jaw shut quietly. “Where does he live, Phil?”

Phil pursed his lips guiltily and weaved his fingers together nervously, staring down at his hands silently. It took him a few minutes to regain the energy and confidence he needed to say it properly. “Near the Midnight Lake. We went there a few times, and there was a small cabin in the forest behind it.”

Anthony's eyes widened in surprise. “Midnight Lake? That's right outside the Village,” he disclosed in a thoughtful, awe-filled voice. “It's near the Organization's building. I've seen it a few times through the window. That's so far away. You went there?”

Phil nodded sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“Well, I don't think we can actually enter the lake without permission–”

“Organization?” PJ cut in sharply, narrowing his eyes at Anthony. “You've seen the Midnight Lake?”

Anthony blinked in confusion, and his demeanour was calm and collected, but as he stared at PJ's smug face, it slowly morphed into a look of terror. He gasped anxiously at his own blunder and clamped a hand over his mouth, staring at PJ miserably. “Oh, fuck,” he mumbled weakly, his voice muffled by his hand.

PJ stared at him calmly for what felt like hours, and Phil scooted back to avoid the explosion that was about to happen right in front of him. Anthony was helping Winged men, and he was part of the Organization that supplied blood to the Village. As far as Phil knew, PJ wasn't aware of it, but in a moment of thoughtlessness, Anthony had accidentally revealed his risky secret. He wasn't excited at all to see PJ's reaction.

PJ flared his nostrils smugly and folded his arms arrogantly against his chest, leaning back with a harrumph. “Don't worry,” he assured with a smirk. “I know. I found out a while ago.”

There was complete stunned silence for several tense moments, and Anthony spluttered, “What?!”

“I know, you fucking imbecile,” PJ repeated in a calm voice, “I know you're a donor.”

Anthony gaped at PJ, opening and closing his mouth, looking shell-shocked. “What?” he mumbled again. “H-how?”

“Do you think I'm an idiot?” PJ raised an eyebrow, “Both of you are terrible at hiding things. You left your phone unlocked, and I saw your text messages with your. . . _accomplice._ ” He held up his hand defensively. “I didn't touch your phone. I just saw it on the screen. You were getting a lot of notifications, and I thought it was from Theodora. It could've been an emergency so I just glanced at it.”

Anthony stared at him with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Why didn't you say anything?” he managed to blurt, “You knew. You knew, but you never–”

PJ frowned. “Why would I say anything?” he asked in confusion. “I didn't have many options. I could've reported you, or I could've talked to you about it.” He crossed his legs and huffed. “I didn't want to report a friend so I didn't, but if I talk to you about it, it would be like acknowledging what you're doing. That would make _me_ an accomplice. I didn't want to get involved so I kept quiet. That way, if you ever get yourself caught, I can confidently say that I didn't know anything and I wasn't involved in it.”

Anthony blinked repeatedly in bewilderment. “Wow.” He furrowed his eyebrows confusedly. “I don't even know what to say.”

PJ shrugged. “When you have such a dangerous job, it's better to just turn a blind eye to things like this.” He smiled smugly. “I don't hear anything. I don't see anything, and I certainly never say anything.”

“Well . . .” Anthony rubbed his forehead and slowly regained his composure. “It certainly makes things easier, doesn't it?”

PJ sighed exasperatedly. “Yeah. I knew you were both doing something dangerous, and I stayed away, but you two still managed to get me involved.” He gave them both a disapproving look. “Whatever. It's fine now.” He turned to face Phil. “What do you want to do?”

Phil blinked, taken aback by the sudden attention, but his determination didn't waver. “I want to see Dan,” he said in a quiet voice, “Is it . . . is it possible to go there? To the lake?”

PJ glanced at Anthony. “Well, it's part of the King's property. The village is protected by the King, and there is heavy security on both sides of the border,” he elaborated pensively. “The road is blocked, and the only way to gain access is if you're going there for business.”

Anthony frowned thoughtfully. “No, I don't think the Midnight Lake is guarded. No one really uses it anymore, and it's on the west side.”

Phil furrowed his eyebrows. “Why not?”

Anthony shrugged. “They have many lakes inside the Village, and the Midnight lake is a little too far for the Villagers.” Anthony turned his questioning glance to PJ. “It'll be hard, but I think it's possible to sneak into the area.”

PJ shook his head at Anthony grimly. “No way. If we were able to fly, it's a different matter, but entering the lake without being seen is absolutely impossible. You haven't been there, Anthony,” he elucidated carefully, “I was posted there once as a Junior Hunter. I refuse to help if you're going to do something this reckless. Find another way, or I'm out,” he threatened with a warning look in his eyes. “I'm sorry. I love my life. I don't want to get caught.”

Anthony stared at him and sighed. “Alright,” he admitted in a defeated voice. “I agree with you. It's a little too risky.”

Phil glanced back and forth between them in utter confusion. He was shocked and befuddled by both of their behaviour. They were being too calm about all of it, and they were helping Phil without asking him further questions. He felt utterly disoriented by their easy compliance. His throat felt tight, and his heart filled up with emotions. “Why . . .” he began in a meek, remorseful voice. “Why are you helping me?”

Both of them turned to him with identical looks of surprise on their faces. Anthony looked confused. “Why wouldn't we help you?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “I was suspicious of Dan at first, but . . .” He turned away reluctantly. “I guess he's grown on me . . . a little bit.” He folded his arms over his chest and harrumphed. “Don't tell him I said that though.”

Phil gaped at him in astonishment, and it was PJ who explained his reasoning next. “I don't know, to be honest,” he conceded in a puzzled tone, “When I really think about it . . . this is crazy, isn't it? Whoa, you two are completely insane!” He rubbed his forehead and sighed. “But . . . well . . . I don't know. I'm intrigued by this whole situation. It seems like there will be a lot of amusing drama. It'll be interesting so why not?” He smirked, glancing at Anthony who winked with approval and gave him a confident thumbs up.

Phil blinked in shock at them both, his chest filling up with intense gratitude. They were good friends, and they were willing to risk everything for him. They had always been his pillar of support, but it wasn't until now that he realized how much they actually cared about him. He was tearful with emotions. “T-thank you, guys,” he mumbled weakly, “I appreciate it.”

PJ snorted. “You should, you asshole,” he grumbled.

Phil nodded solemnly, and Anthony rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “I'll take you there,” he muttered suddenly.

Phil looked up. “What?”

Anthony glanced at PJ and sighed. “I'll take you to the lake,” he disclosed in a reluctant voice, “I'm going to the Organization tomorrow with a friend. He wasn't able to donate last time due to a fever. We're going to try again tomorrow.” He looked at Phil questioningly. “You can come with us if you want.”

“ _Friend_ ,” PJ snorted.

“Is the lake close to the Organization?” Phil asked hastily with wide eyes, leaning forward eagerly.

“Yeah.” Anthony nodded. “I can help you get there. The headquarters is inside the Village, and it doesn't have tight security. It'll be easier than trying to get there secretly through the main road.” He placed his chin on his palm contemplatively. “I have made a few friends at the Organization. I can ask them for help.”

Phil's heart thudded with relief, and he swallowed the excitement that bubbled up his throat. He wasn't sure what he would do once he saw Dan in front of him, but he couldn't wait for that moment. “Thank you,” he whispered in an earnest, hopeful voice. “When are we leaving? How will we get there? Can we leave now?”

“Tomorrow evening,” Anthony told him with a grin, “I won't tell you anything else. You'll have to see it for yourself.”

Phil nodded eagerly. “Tomorrow evening? Really?”

“Yeah.”

Phil swallowed with relief. “Okay. Tomorrow evening. I just have to wait until tomorrow evening,” he muttered to himself.

PJ intertwined his hands gravely and warned. “Guys, be careful,” he advised grimly, “We're all acting like it's no big deal, but this is very risky. It's okay to joke about it to ease the tension, but in reality, this is all pretty insane. It's not something we should take lightly. Just be careful. That's all I want to say.”

PJ's stern, sombre words hung heavy in the silence, and it immediately dissolved all the laughs and careless jokes. It made all of them tumble back to reality, and Phil gulped silently. It was Anthony who answered in a quiet voice, “We know, PJ.”

~*~

Phil set out reluctantly with Anthony just a little after 5 o'clock in the evening, wearing casual clothes and walking down the street in a brisk pace. Anthony had warned him beforehand to try not to attract attention or appear suspicious. He wanted Phil to act as natural as possible as they headed towards their destination. Anthony still hadn't revealed any information about where they were going. He wanted Phil to be patient, but they were walking quietly through a place unfamiliar to Phil, and his patience was wearing thin. “Anthony,” he called.

Anthony looked sideways. “Yeah?”

“We've been walking for more than an hour,” he complained in a doubtful voice, “Where are we going?”

“You'll see when we get there,” he explained smugly.

“Why are we walking?” he asked in confusion, “We could've asked PJ to drop us off in his car.”

“No.” Anthony shook his head. “That's way too obvious. There are still people outside. We need to act like we're just out on a walk.”

Phil frowned but said nothing. He turned and explored his surroundings silently. They were in a different, unfamiliar street where Phil had never been before. It was dirty everywhere, and the buildings were old and shabby. Even though it wasn't nighttime yet, there were very few vehicles on the road and just a handful of people outside, mostly returning home from work. It was an eerily quiet neighbourhood, and it sent creepy chills down Phil's spine.

“My friend is waiting for us there,” Anthony told him in a gleeful voice, looking left and right with squinted eyes before discreetly slipping into a dingy alley.

Phil turned back to Anthony with narrowed eyes, following him without questions. “Who is this friend?”

Anthony smirked. “You'll see.”

Phil rolled his eyes exasperatedly and sighed deeply, jogging slightly to catch up with Anthony's fast pace. His perturbed hands slid into the pocket of his jeans in search of the fluffy penguin keychain that he had brought with him. He had found it in the pile of junk Dan had collected and grabbed it without giving much thought to it. It calmed him down and reminded him of Dan. He didn't care where Anthony was taking him, or who his unknown friend was. As long as he could see Dan, none of it mattered. His emotions were barely in check, and he was desperately concealing his despair.

He couldn't stop worrying about Dan. Where was he? How was he? Was he okay? It was hard to suppress these anxious thoughts, and he was in a constant state of agitation. He didn't know if he would ever find Dan. It was possible that Dan had returned to his family, and if that was the case, he didn't have any hopes of ever finding him again. It made him distraught with concern, and his helplessness made him feel weak. It was his own fault; he knew that. It was his own fault for being a stupid, cowardly person. He knew how he felt for Dan, but he didn't want to acknowledge it. He was protecting himself from getting hurt. He always knew they couldn't be together, so he tried to end things before they had a chance to begin. He had nobody to blame but himself.

“Phil.” Anthony's calm voice cut through the muddiness of his distressing thoughts. “Are you alright?”

Phil looked up in surprise, staring at the back of Anthony's head. “Yeah,” he responded in a small voice.

Anthony looked over his shoulder and huffed. “Stop looking so gloomy,” he complained, his expression unreadable. “We'll find him.”

Phil bit his bottom lip and composed himself. “Yeah.”

Anthony turned a corner, and Phil shoved his thoughts to the back of his mind, following him silently. They were strolling down another unfamiliar street, but Phil didn't complain. Suddenly, Anthony lifted his hand and waved at someone in the distance. “There he is!” he told Phil, jogging to reach the mysterious man.

Phil ran behind him, squinting his eyes at the silhouette of Anthony's friend. His face was indistinct but his posture and his tall, lean body were extremely familiar. As they neared closer, his face came into clear view, and Phil's eyes widened in recognition. He came to a halt and blurted, “Luke?”

Luke stared at him in utter surprise. “Phil?” His eyes widened immediately and he turned to Anthony in shock. “When you said you were bringing a friend with you, it was–”

Anthony grinned. “Yup.”

Luke was holding a water bottle in his hand, and he had a small backpack hanging from his broad shoulders. He stared at Phil in bewilderment, and Phil stared right back. “You . . . you donate blood?” Phil asked with wide eyes.

“He doesn't just donate blood,” Anthony disclosed, grabbing the bottle from Luke's hands and uncapping it. “He's an active member. He works there.” Anthony took a sip from the bottle and offered it to Phil. “Water?”

“No,” Phil refused politely, staring in astonishment at Luke. “Why? How? When did you start–”

“I started working at the Organization two years ago. A former friend told me about it, and I wanted to help Winged men,” Luke explained, removing his backpack. Anthony took it from him and opened it, dropping the water bottle into it. “What about you?” Luke asked with a puzzled frown, “Why are you here? I never expected–oh, wait. You always talked about wanting to help Winged men.” Luke grinned. “I'm not surprised.”

Phil pursed his lips and hesitated slightly. “Er, no. I'm not here to donate blood or anything. I–”

“Guys,” Anthony mumbled, checking the vicinity. “We should go. We can talk and reminisce later.”

Luke nodded solemnly. “Right.”

Phil looked around curiously and noticed where they were. In front of him was an old, abandoned-looking playground. It didn't have a gate, and it didn't look like anyone used it. The ground was covered with tall grass and weeds. There were broken swings and rusty, dust-covered slides. Anthony gestured with his hand to follow him, and Phil blinked his gaze away from the tree growing near a worn-out seesaw. Luke walked in quietly, and Anthony and Phil followed him.

They slowly ambled towards a small, broken building near the large trees on the sides. It looked like an adult-sized wooden playhouse. Behind the playhouse, there were giant walls that separated the King's territory from human society. Phil suddenly realized why this particular playground was abandoned, and why there were barely any people around. Most people stayed away from the walls, and parents were probably hesitant to let their children play in a place so close to what they deemed dangerous and unsafe.

“Why are you here then?” Luke asked without looking back, continuing their conversation from before.

Phil pursed his lips worriedly, and he didn't know what to answer. He watched silently as Luke marched towards the backside of the playhouse. He glanced back at Phil curiously. “It's something you can't tell me,” he stated like it was obvious and narrowed his eyes with a frown. “Does this have something to do with why you were so upset the other day?”

Phil hesitated and averted his eyes awkwardly. Anthony slipped his hand into the backpack and pulled out three plastic masks and a bottle that looked like perfume, handing them to Luke and Phil. “Wear this,” he ordered in a quiet voice, putting the mask on quickly.

Phil looked down at the mask and glanced up at Luke reluctantly. Luke rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “Don't worry. You don't have to tell me,” he comforted with a sigh, putting the mask on and turning around.

Phil shot him a grateful smile and frowned down at the mask, looking up questioningly. “Why do we have to wear masks?” he asked confusedly.

“Just wear it.”

They walked to the back of the playhouse, and Phil's eyes widened in bafflement. Luke gestured to the large pieces of cardboard, scraps of metal and other piles of rubbish and junk stacked against the wall. “This is the way,” he explained with a grin, “This is the first wall. There are two walls. On the other side of this wall, it's just abandoned land for several miles and then you'll see another wall. The Village is on the other side of the second wall.”

Anthony nodded. “There are security guards watching the first and the second wall twenty-four seven. I've contacted a friend. She'll be waiting for us,” Anthony elaborated, “There is a city on the other side, Phil. The Village is open to all kinds of Winged men, but uh, they are a little hostile towards humans. There are always good and bad people in every society.” He shrugged. “Wear the mask. It's better to hide our identity.” He sprayed the perfume all over himself and Phil, handing it to Luke when he was done.

“Winged people have amazing sense of smell. They can track us with our scent,” Luke explained to Phil, gesturing to the perfume. He stepped forward and began removing the stacks of junk one by one. Anthony joined him happily, grabbing the cardboard boxes and putting them aside carefully. Phil put on the mask in silence, and all he could do was stare in shock at the large hole on the wall that slowly came into view. Luke turned back. “Let's go.”

He adjusted his backpack on his shoulders and headed straight to the hole, disappearing inside swiftly. Phil swallowed nervously and stepped forward, lowering his head and cautiously slipping inside. They ambled silently through the dark tunnel and walked towards the light. Phil squinted his eyes as he stepped out. His heart pounded anxiously, and he lifted his head and stared at the unfamiliar surroundings. His eyes widened in surprise, and he couldn't help but gape at the trees and bushes growing everywhere.

“You're late,” a feminine voice said from near him, catching Phil's attention. He blinked and turned to face the Winged woman standing near them in formal attire. She had shorter wings than Dan, but they gave out more shine. Her eyes were kind, and she was standing akimbo with a disapproving look on her face. “I hate people who can't arrive on time. So disrespectful.” She huffed. “I've been waiting here like an idiot for two hours. Two whole hours!”

“Oops,” Luke shrugged. “Sorry.”

The woman rolled her eyes exasperatedly, and suddenly Phil turned back and noticed the winged men standing next to the walls. They were all wearing some kind of uniform with a lot of badges, and they had pieces of equipment strapped to their waist. _Oh. “_ Security,” Phil muttered under his breath.

“Come on, Rayna,” Anthony huffed, sidestepping Phil to reach her. “We're just a few minutes late. Two minutes are not two hours.”

Phil turned to the Winged woman, Rayna, to see her roll her eyes. “You know how busy I am,” she huffed, snatching a clipboard from a Winged man who was standing next to her. “Sign here, Luke,” she grumbled, handing him a pen. Luke did as he was told, and Rayna gave him a red bracelet. “Donor number 707.”

“Thanks,” Luke replied as he stepped aside.

Anthony took the pen from her hands and signed on the paper attached to the clipboard. Rayna handed him a blue bracelet. “Visitor number 301.”

Rayna turned to Phil and her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Who are you?”

“Er, uh, I . . .” Phil began awkwardly, glancing nervously at Anthony.

Anthony patted his shoulder. “He's my friend. Give him a visitor bracelet.”

Rayna shrugged. “Alright.” She extended the clipboard towards him. “Sign here, please. These are all names of the humans that are currently inside the Village. The bracelet indicates that you're working with us. If you go to the Blood Bank without a bracelet, you'll be seen as a trespasser and taken to the execution platform to be beheaded.”

Phil jerked back in shock. “W-what?”

Rayna smiled a sweet smile, and Phil glanced worriedly at Luke. Luke let out a small laugh. “She's joking. They rarely use the execution platform.”

Phil frowned, and the admission didn't make him feel any better. He cautiously took the bracelet and slipped it onto his wrist, snatching the pen and clipboard from Rayna's hands. She smiled and folded her arms across her chest, watching him. Phil looked down curiously at the paper to find an organized list of several names and their signatures. He quietly wrote his name and address on the page, signing his name next to it. He gave it back to Rayna and looked up silently.

Rayna handed the clipboard to the Winged man standing next to her. “We usually only allow humans inside the Village after thorough identity verification, but as you know, ever since the Prince disappeared, a lot of people have stopped working with us. We're short-staffed right now, and we're not allowing any new visitors,” she admitted in a sombre voice. “Since it's your friend, I'll make an exception.” She smiled, “So, Luke's going to Blood Bank B, right?” she asked, “What about you guys?”

“Oh, we're just here to, uh, see the Blood Bank,” Anthony lied, “This guy–” He patted Phil's back. “–wants to donate blood, but he's scared. He's just here to see how it works so he can make a decision.”

Rayna nodded. “Great! We've been dealing with a blood shortage in Blood Bank C. It'll be awesome if you could join us!” she chirped, waving her hand. She smiled and turned to Luke. “I'll take Luke to Blood Bank B.” She gestured to the two men near her. “They will take you to Blood Bank A.”

Rayna's wings fluttered. Suddenly, she grabbed Luke's shoulder and lifted him bridal style in one swift motion. “Well, see you later,” she quipped before rising into the air, carrying Luke effortlessly. His weight didn't even seem to bother her as she disappeared out of sight in a swift second.

Phil gaped with his jaws on the ground. “What the–” He turned to Anthony with wide eyes. “How?”

Anthony shrugged. “Winged people are pretty strong. Rayna can carry two people at the same time.”

“But I thought they–”

“Yeah, Rayna actually puked when she touched Luke for the first time.” Anthony shrugged. “She still doesn't like it, but she's a little used to it now.”

Phil remained silent, completely shocked as he stared at Anthony. Anthony shuffled closer and pulled him aside quickly. “Listen, these guys are going to carry us over the second wall. I'm changing the plan,” he whispered hastily, “We don't have to go to the Village anymore. The Midnight Lake is somewhere around here. Once we're away from the security guards here, act like you want to vomit. Pretend to be sick. Tell the winged man to stop flying before we reach the second wall. We have to get to the ground before we reach the second wall. I'll handle the rest after that. You just need to act sick. Trust me, okay? Do you understand?”

Phil frowned but nodded, watching quietly as two winged men stepped forward. They wore blank expressions on their faces, and they weren't really looking at Phil and Anthony. The larger one out of the two stepped behind Phil and grabbed his shoulders roughly. His blank mask crumbled, and he looked a little disgusted. Phil felt a tiny bit bad for him.

The man lifted him into the sky, and Phil looked below at the large trees and plants covering the deserted land. He could see the second wall in the distance, and he squinted his eyes, staring at it curiously. The man's wings were larger than Dan's wings, and he was flying faster than Dan. They zoomed through the sky swiftly, and Phil closed his eyes against the cold wind that lashed against his skin. He could see Anthony on his right side, and he looked like he hated flying. It was understandable. Phil didn't mind flying with Dan, but being carried roughly like he was some kind of disgusting worm was a little unpleasant.

Phil sighed heavily and waited patiently, looking around at the ground below. It took ten minutes for them to reach the second wall, and Phil gaped at the scenery in astonishment, unable to utter a single word. He could see blurry building beyond the wall, and his heart thumped strongly with curiosity. He wasn't sure what he would see on the other side of the wall. How different would it be from his world?

The winged man carrying him flew higher, and the land on the other side came into full view. “Whoa,” he breathed in awe.

It wasn't different. There was absolutely nothing spectacular about the place. He didn't know what he was expecting, but the Village looked like a normal city, with tall buildings, roads and typical shops and restaurants. The only striking difference he could see was that there was a lot more greenery. There were large trees and bushes growing on the sides of roads, and plants, flowers and vines growing on windows and roofs of the buildings. There were a lot of Winged men and women in formal clothes walking and flying all over the place. It was . . . amazing. “Wow,” he whispered quietly.

The view was so amazing that Phil almost forgot to tell the winged man to stop. The second wall was very close now. He looked away from the Village below and inhaled deeply, opening his mouth. He hesitated for a second. How should he do this? He was a terrible actor.

He took another deep breath. “Oh, shit. I want to vomit. Bleh. I feel sick. Put me down,” he said awkwardly and pretended to gag. “Oh, no. The vomit is coming. Bleh.” _Fuck_. He probably sounded like an idiot.

The winged man immediately slowed down. “What's wrong?” 

Phil gagged. “Sick. Very sick. Take me back to the ground. Please. I want to puke. It's coming. Bleh.”

The winged man nodded worriedly. “Sure.” His wings lowered, and they were flapping slowly. He descended to the ground, and his partner followed in confusion. The winged man put Phil down, and Phil gasped and gagged. “Oh, no. My stomach hurts so bad.”

Anthony rushed towards him in concern. “Hey. Are you okay? What's wrong?”

Phil shook his head. “No. I want to vomit. I am very sick. Very badly sick.”

“Okay. I understand. It's probably because you're not used to flying,” Anthony said in a sympathetic voice, rubbing Phil's back as Phil crouched on the ground. “We should go back, Phil. You shouldn't force yourself if you're sick. We can come back later.” He turned to the winged men. “I'm really sorry. We're going back.”

The winged men looked at each other and sighed. The winged man who had carried Phil rubbed his neck awkwardly. “It's alright, but do you want us to carry you back?”

“No, it's okay. He's not used to flying. We'll walk,” Anthony told them in an apologetic voice. “Please tell Rayna that we went back.”

Both of them nodded. “You can return the bracelets to the security guards.” They hesitated and glanced at each other. “Er, can we leave then? We have work to–”

“Ah, of course. Go ahead. We're going back.” Anthony nodded vehemently and watched silently as the winged men in front of them fluttered their wings and rose to the sky. “Thank you so much, guys. See you later,” he said thankfully.

There was complete silence for a long time, and the fluttering noise gradually became inaudible. Anthony removed his mask and pulled Phil to his feet. “Okay. They're gone. Thank god.” He let out a relieved breath and looked around. “This way,” Anthony whispered hastily, “It should be somewhere around here.”

“Weren't we going to the Organization?” he asked confusedly, removing his mask and slipping it into his pocket. “Why did we stop here?”

Anthony shrugged. “We were, but we don't have to anymore. I thought Rayna would want to confirm your identity, but she gave you a bracelet anyway.” He glanced at his surroundings hastily. “The Midnight Lake is outside the Village. Outside the second wall. The security guards are the main obstacle. We are lucky it worked. If someone sees us, just act sick.”

“Okay.” Phil nodded. “Who was that woman? Rayna?”

Phil followed Anthony through the forest-like area, and they slowly walked towards the large oak tree at the end of the path. There were large trees, plants and grass everywhere around them. “She just works at the Organization. I told you before.” His expression changed to alert. “Try to look casual,” he warned, “I think we're safe, but this is risky. At least we have bracelets.” He glanced at his wrist with relief.

Phil frowned and closed his mouth soundlessly, staying quiet as they briskly strolled past the oak tree and into the shadow of similar large trees. Anthony's pace doubled, and Phil jogged behind him quietly. There were no Winged people around, but Phil's nerves refused to calm down. He sighed and tried to relax his tense shoulders. He looked straight ahead, stepping over a small puddle of water. There was a small fence in front of him. “Where is the lake?” he asked in confusion.

“It's on the other side of this fence. You'll have to walk through the woods. This is the only safe way to get there, Phil,” he told Phil in a solemn voice, “Winged people don't use this lake, but it's almost impossible to get here. You saw the security near the wall.”

Phil nodded. “Yeah.”

“Just walk straight ahead. You'll get there,” Anthony suggested thoughtfully.

Phil frowned in perplexity. “What about you?”

Anthony sighed. “I'll wait here. I'll call you if something happens. We don't know if Dan is there or not. Go and take a look.” He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Text me if you find him.”

Phil nodded in determination, stepping back and jumping over the fence easily. Anthony grabbed his arm suddenly, making him look back. “Look, don't take too long.”

Phil nodded. “I know.” He sighed softly and stepped forward, and he was full of hope. He turned back and waved at Anthony, his expression sincere. “Thank you, Anthony,” he whispered genuinely.

Anthony grinned. “Anytime.”

~*~

Phil's head was foggy as he trudged tiredly through the thicket of trees and bushes, back to where Anthony was awaiting his return. It was dark now, and the sun was setting on the horizon. He could see Anthony's silhouette up ahead, and he silently made his way towards him with a heavy heart. His footsteps dragged through the grass and dried leaves, and it must have made a crispy noise because Anthony turned to him instantly. His expression brightened as soon as he saw Phil, and he opened his mouth to ask, but he seemed to understand the situation quickly. He snapped his jaw shut and waved worriedly. 

“What happened?” he inquired as Phil climbed over the fence lethargically.

Phil swallowed, and his stomach dropped. “He wasn't . . . Dan wasn't there,” he managed to say, “I looked everywhere, but . . . there was no one near the lake. I–I don't know where he is. I don't know.”

Anthony looked at him with sympathy and patted his back in encouragement. “It's alright. We'll find him. He's probably okay. Try to be optimistic about it, okay?”

Phil nodded with a lump in his throat. Optimistic? There was no way he could be optimistic. It was all really over. “Yeah.”


	37. Apology

Phil walked into his cold, empty apartment with his mind and eyes unfocused. His heart constantly felt like it was being crushed under heavy pressure, and every step he took felt like a massive burden. He locked his door absently and turned around, only to be greeted by a mind-numbing silence. It was dark and murky everywhere he looked. He hated it more than anything, but he didn't have the strength to turn on the lights. He already knew there were no more penguins on the sofa. He knew there was only one empty cup on the coffee table, not two. There were no chocolate wrappers on the table, and he no longer needed to berate Dan for not turning off the bathroom lights.

Phil had become so used to all the little things that he couldn't stand to look at his own apartment. Somehow, without Dan's mess, his apartment didn't feel like his own. It felt like he had just stalked into a random building. Phil's heart squeezed in pain, and he stared into the darkness shakily.

It didn't feel like his home. His house felt like home with Dan in it. For the first time, he truly realised how much Dan had changed him. Little by little, Dan managed to crawl deeper and deeper into Phil's daily life. It didn't happen all at once like he had first thought. It happened very very slowly. Dan's presence was simple and silent; it wasn't explosive or loud. It was like a warm, crackling fire in the hearth that was so small that it almost went unnoticed but it was big enough to keep the room warm. Phil never bothered to pay attention to it. He never considered it, but now that Dan wasn't here, he could see it all clearly. Dan had left behind such a shocking roar of his absence . . . Phil wasn't sure how he was supposed to just move on.

Phil's chest throbbed, and he clutched his shirt tightly, taking a deep breath to calm down. His legs wobbled as he quietly made his way through the room, heading to his bedroom. He tripped on something on the floor, and it took him a few seconds to regain his composure. Somehow, his house was messier than before. Dan usually helped Phil, and he was always eager to take part in doing all of the household chores. He always seemed eager to lend a hand, trying his absolute best to repay Phil by doing anything he could. Without Dan there to help him, Phil didn't feel like cleaning at all.

Phil opened his bedroom door silently, walking inside with a dull face. His body was already falling forwards, hoping to drop on top of his bed. It was extremely hard to drag himself over to the bed when all he wanted to do was collapse on the floor. He sighed in resignation, and his misty eyes lifted, searching for his cold bed where he would sleep alone tonight. Dan wasn't here anymore, and he had no one to hold when he was cold. Dan was gone, and he would never come bac–

Phil's breath caught in his throat. The fogginess in his eyes vanished immediately, and a flow of instant energy shot through his veins. He staggered back against the door, and his knees were shaking. Was it a dream? A nightmare? Was he asleep? Was it a hallucination? It could be a hallucination. It had to be. Phil's thoughts had been tangled all day, and he had finally gone insane. His hands clenched into fists, and he rubbed his eyes repeatedly, staring at his bed with wide, expectant eyes. The hallucination didn't disappear, and his heart thumped against his ribcage. He stared at the peaceful, sleeping figure on his bed, and his chest was suddenly full of hope and anticipation.

His shaking legs carried him forward, and he stared down at Dan's sleeping face. His mind was suddenly a little fuzzy, and his hands were shaking. He pinched his arm with wide eyes and felt the pain flow through him. Was it real? Was it truly real, or was he just imagining things? He was imagining it, wasn't he? He had looked everywhere for Dan. Dan couldn't be here, in his bed, sleeping like nothing had happened between them. It couldn't possibly be real. It seemed unbelievable and impossible. _Could_ it be real? Wasn't there a small, very tiny chance that . . . that it was real? Phil's eyes filled up with tears, and his trembling hand moved towards Dan automatically. He touched Dan's curly locks lightly and almost immediately, tremendous relief flooded into him. It was real? Dan was real.

Phil let out a teary, breathless laugh. The whole situation was just unbelievable and hilarious in a pathetic way. “W-wow.”

Phil's touch was light, but Dan seemed to have noticed his presence. His eyes blinked open slowly, and he looked up at Phil confusedly. There was a look of disorientation on his face for a few, stilted seconds, but it didn't last for long. His eyes widened immediately, and he jerked back, lurching back to his feet instantly with embarrassment colouring his face. He backed away towards the window, eyes wide and panicked. His wings shrivelled and collapsed behind his back, and Phil's heart raced as the distance between them widened. He knew he should tell Dan to stop, but his mouth refused to work. He was surprised and overwhelmed, and he couldn't find the right words. Where should he even begin?

“I . . .” Dan stammered nervously. His posture was rigid, and his fingers were fumbling with the hem of his T-shirt. He was avoiding Phil's eyes, and Phil could tell he was just as shocked as Phil. “I was just . . . I'm sorry. I was going to look at you through the window and leave, but I–I didn't see you and–and the bed smelled like you and I–I'm sorry–I was . . . I don't, um, I was–I wanted to see you, um . . . ” Dan's fingers clenched into fists, and his eyes filled with tears. “I just miss you.”

The gap between them was so wide, it felt like Dan would disappear before Phil had a chance to close the distance. He knew he had completely ruined their relationship and the trust Dan had in him. He could see the small cracks between them growing wider and wider with every minute. What should he say? How could he make it right? What should he do to stop Dan from hurting? “N-no, I . . .” he blurted, but his throat was aching, and his voice was barely audible. All he could do was stare at Dan like an idiot.

Dan bit his lip and turned away. “I'm sorry. I will leave.” His hand touched the window, and Phil's stomach plummeted straight to the floor. His body moved before he could stop to think. He rushed to Dan's side, grabbing his hand quickly.

“Wait!” he shouted, making Dan flinch.

Dan turned back timidly. “Yes?”

Phil's mouth went dry, and he stared at Dan's familiar face with wide eyes. “I . . . ” His heart was thudding, and he knew he was shaking all over. Dan was here. Dan really was here. Dan came back. His throat felt tight, and he wanted to cry. He stumbled forward with a pained look on his face, pulling Dan into a tight, squeezing hug. “I missed you,” he choked out in a barely audible voice, “Fuck.” He buried his face into the crook of Dan's shoulder, inhaling his familiar smell. The relief that flowed into him was mind-boggling. “I–I was–wanted to–I–” His throat was all clogged up. Dammit. _Say something, Phil._ _Say something._

Dan was silent for a long time. He didn't say a word, and he didn't hug Phil back either. When he finally spoke, his voice was small and wavering. “Don't touch me,” he whispered in a muffled voice.

Phil's arms tightened around Dan, and he tried to open his mouth, but he still didn't _know_ what to say. What did he want? What did he _want_ from Dan? His mind was full of several different thoughts and a million different apologies, but he couldn't put it into words. He didn't know where to start, what to say and how to say it. “I–Dan, I know I was–it was–” _Fuck._ He needed to hurry up and say something. Anything. Apology. Right. He needed to apologize. He should apologize immediately. He should apologize for everything he had done, and everything he had said, or Dan would leave again. _Say it. Apologize. Just say I'm sorry. “_ I love you.”

Dan stilled, and Phil's heart plummeted immediately. His hands clenched into fists when he realised what he had said. He bit his lip and swallowed. Suddenly, his mind was clear, and he knew what he needed to say. “I'm sorry,” he whispered in a barely audible voice, “I'm sorry.”

Dan was silent for what felt like hours, and Phil desperately tried to arrange his thoughts and regain his composure. Dan pushed him away suddenly. “I don't want to do this anymore,” he said in a quiet, shaking voice. “I–I don't understand you. You're confusing, and you always lie to me. You pushed me away like it was nothing, and–and it really hurt me. I don't–I don't want to be confused all the time.”

Phil's heart shattered, and he bit his bottom lip tightly. He had never felt such shame and self-loathing before. He was standing before Dan like nothing had happened. He knew his own feelings. He was aware of it from the very beginning. If he put his mind into it, he knew he could pinpoint the exact moment his platonic feelings for Dan had transformed into something more. He was always watching Dan, and some part of him had always known what Dan really meant to him, but he was terrified. He was scared of being hurt so much that he had intentionally and calculatedly led him on.

Friends with benefits?

Sexual partners?

It was all a fucking lie he had made up in his own head. He was just a pathetic person that tried to take advantage of Dan's naivety. Dan was always honest about every single thing. Phil was the one who denied and dismissed everything without ever explaining anything. He never had any plans to commit to anything. He was afraid of what such a commitment would bring. Humans and winged people had no place where they could be together, and he was _terrified_ of getting too attached to Dan. In the end, what had he done? He got stupidly, irresistibly attached to Dan, pushed him away, and hurt him irreversibly.

_“I've always hated that half-assed attitude of yours!”_

Phil clenched his jaw and moved back, balling his hands into tight fists. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, meeting Dan's eyes. “It's all my fault. I'm sorry.” His voice was shaky, but he knew he needed to say it. “I'm an idiot, and I lied to you so many times. I won't deny it. It's the truth. I always knew what you really wanted from me, but I–I'm sorry, I pretended not to notice. I'm sorry, Dan. I'm so sorry.”

Dan bit his lip and stared at the floor. “I know. I'm not an idiot,” he whispered shakily, “You think I am though.”

“No,” Phil shook his head. “No, I never–I swear, I don't think that. I–I'm the idiot. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.” His hands trembled, and he couldn't bear to be away from Dan. Even if the distance between them was negligible, it felt painful. He leaned forward and pulled him into a hug again. “I do care about you. I'm so sorry. I don't think we're just friends. I love you. I was scared. I thought it wouldn't work out so I lied. I'm sorry.” He pulled away and cupped Dan's face gently. “Please forgive me. I'm sorry.”

“You lied to me,” Dan mumbled, his eyes teary. “It really hurt me.” He averted his eyes, but he looked determined. “I don't like it when you avoid my questions. I don't like it when you don't tell me what you want. I don't like it when you're not honest.”

Phil swallowed, and all he felt was an immense amount of guilt. Words were piling up on his tongue, and he felt breathless and like if he didn't say it all at once, Dan would vanish. “I'm sorry. I will–I will try to change that. I swear I will be honest with you from now on. I will never avoid your questions, and I will always tell you everything. I won't hide anything from you. I want to be with you. I won't lie ever again. I hated not being able to see you. I . . . I missed you so much, Dan. I–I'm so sorry.” He bit his lip and wiped his eyes. “Don't leave, okay? Don't do that. Don't leave like you did last time. I was scared. I didn't know where to find you, and I just–I didn't know what to do. Please don't leave, okay?”

Dan stared at him wordlessly, his expression unreadable. “You really really hurt me,” he whispered in a shaky voice.

“I'm sorry,” Phil sniffed. “I'm really sorry. Please don't leave, okay? I'm really sorry, Dan. I–I swear to god, I will never lie to you ever again. I love you, and I'm sorry for hesitating before. I'm sorry for being an indecisive idiot. I regret it so much, Dan. Please trust me. I'm sorry. Don't leave, okay?”

Dan's lips quivered, and he seemed conflicted. “You . . . you want to be with me?” he whispered hesitantly, as if he couldn't believe it. His hands grabbed the hem of Phil's T-shirt, and he stared at Phil. “You love me? Not like a friend, or like–like a brother. You _love_ me? You won't say we are just friends?”

Phil nodded with a lump in his throat. “Yes. I'm sorry. I'm the one who made you feel so unsure,” he said silently, “I love you. I want to kiss you and touch you, and go on dates with you. I want you to be my–my boyfriend. I want us to be in a relationship.” He placed their foreheads together. “I'll never lie to you again, I promise. Please believe me,” he mumbled desperately. “I love you. I really do. I'm sorry.”

Dan looked back down at his feet, a reluctant expression on his face. “I . . . I'm not a human, and I–I don't really understand how human relationships work. I'm not–I'm not sure I can be who you want me to be. I'll always be a winged man, and it'll only cause trouble for you.” He swallowed. “When you said you didn't want to be with me, it really hurt me, but–but I thought about it a lot, and–” His fingers clenched around Phil's T-shirt, and he sniffed. “It's okay if you don't want to be with me. I know humans don't like winged people. I know it'll cause all kinds of problems if I live with you. It's okay. I don't mind. You don't have to force yourself to–”

Phil connected their lips, derailing Dan's tearful ramble. He couldn't stand it. Dan's voice was shaky and breathless, and he didn't look like he meant what was he saying. Phil couldn't stand it. He had moved before he could think about it. Their lips met gently, and he placed a brief kiss on his lips. Dan looked surprised, but his lips moved slowly. His hands came up to grab the collar of Phil's shirt desperately, and Phil's heart burst with joy. He pulled back with determination and blurted, “Let's get bonded.”

There was a stunned silence for several seconds, and an absolutely astounded look bloomed on Dan's face. He gaped at Phil with wide, disbelieving eyes, opening and closing his mouth multiple times. His hands fell away automatically, and he blinked repeatedly. “W-what?” he whispered breathlessly.

“ _Winged people mate for life!”_

_“They stay together until they die.”_

_“Whatever you do, just don't get bonded.”_

Phil pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind in determination. “Let's do it,” he blurted solemnly. “I'll come and live with you in the Village. I don't mind. I'm introverted and barely go outside anyway. I'm a writer. I can work from home. I can meet my friends every once in a while. Luke goes to the Village all the time. I'm sure I can do it too. I don't care. I don't know the rules of the Village, but I'm assuming they won't kick me out if I'm bonded to you. Bonded people always stay together, right?” Phil rambled, his thoughts leaving his mouth swiftly, “I'm actually not sure if the Village has internet connection, but it did look technologically advanced. It's fine. I'll do something about it. It'll be alright someho–”

Dan tackled him into a tight hug, burying his face in Phil's shoulder. Phil blinked and wrapped his arms around Dan with a lump in his throat, waiting for him to talk. He didn't speak for a long time, and Phil bit his lip. “You don't want to?” he asked hesitantly.

“N-no, I . . . ” Dan sniffed. “It's just–you really want to?” His voice was unsure. “Get bonded? To me? I–I'm not . . . you want to? Even though I'm a winged man?”

“Dan.” Phil grabbed his shoulders determinedly. “I told you. I like you just the way you are. I love you. I love your beautiful wings. You are fine as you are.”

Dan bit his lip, and he was teary-eyed. He nodded wordlessly. “You're sure? We won't–we won't be friends anymore? You really love me? You won't change your mind?” he asked desperately.

Phil nodded. “I love you. We will be boyfriends instead.”

“Boyfriends?” Dan's cheeks immediately turned pink, and his wings lifted, fluttering noisily.

The sound was so familiar and beautiful, Phil's eyes turned misty. “I really missed you,” he whispered with a tearful chuckle, stroking Dan's wings gently. “I–I still can't believe you're here. I'm really glad you came back, Dan.” He pulled Dan into a tight hug, closing his eyes in relief. “I'm really really happy right now.”

Dan hugged him back, and Phil smiled against Dan's shoulder, silently soaking his warmth. The room was suddenly bright, and his chest was full of hope. They were both silent for a long time, and Phil wanted to stay like that forever.

“Phil . . .” Dan murmured.

Phil opened his eyes and squeezed Dan's waist. “Yeah?”

“Are you sure about this?”

Phil clenched his jaw and nodded. “Yes, I am. I'm sure. These three days were hell. I don't–I don't want to go through that ever again. I know it looks like I said it on a whim, but–but I've thought about it. I've thought about it so much. I've thought about being with you for months and months, but–but I was–I was scared. I'm sorry,” he whispered, “I've decided now. I'm sure. I'm definitely sure.”

There was silence for some time, and Phil waited for Dan's answer. “I love you,” Dan murmured against his shoulder.

“I love you too,” Phil replied, and he suddenly realised how amazing it felt to say it.

“Are we going to bond now?” Dan asked confusedly. “I want to take a shower . . .”

Phil let out a small laugh. “We don't have to do it right now, Dan.” He pulled back and kissed Dan softly. “We can do it whenever we want.”

Dan nodded and smiled, wrapping his arms around Phil's neck. Phil smiled up at him, and his heart was full of pure bliss. “I want tea,” Dan murmured, “And chocolates and–and biscuits and can we cuddle on the sofa? Can we shower together? Can we watch movies? Can we–”

“We can do everything. It's still just 9 p.m. We have all night ahead of us,” Phil smiled, and he felt his chest fill up with warmth. He felt perfectly calm and happy for the first time in several days.

Dan sniffed and hugged Phil. “I missed you.”

Phil nodded with a lump in his throat. “Yeah,” he murmured, closing his eyes with a sad smile. “I missed you too.”

~*~

Phil's chest was overflowing with delight, and he couldn't control his overwhelming feelings of happiness. He stepped closer to Dan, and joyously tackled him to the bed. A thrum of contentment vibrated through his entire body, and his arms wrapped around Dan tightly. Dan let out a small squeaking noise, but he cheerfully accepted Phil's affection. He smelled like shampoo, something floral with a hint of ever-present sandalwood. Phil's mind felt all fuzzy, but it looked like everything in his little universe had fallen back into its rightful place. “You smell so good,” he whispered with a smile, closing his eyes in satisfaction.

The insignificant little routines and habits he had formed and followed with Dan always pleased him, and he felt fulfilled like everything was going to be okay. Drinking bland tea, cleaning, cooking, watching movies and sleeping together day after day probably sounded boring and repetitive, but it made Phil feel like the happiest man on earth. This was all he wanted. He had never wanted to be sensationally famous or insanely rich. He didn't want to go on grand adventures or travel the world. Living a peaceful, mediocre life in his small home with his small family was more than enough. He didn't want to live a spectacular life; he was happy with his ordinary life.

“Mm,” Phil murmured against Dan's shoulder. Time passed way too quickly when he was with Dan. It was almost 3 in the morning, but Phil didn't feel tired at all. “This feels great. Still can't believe you're here.”

Dan's fingers slowly massaged his scalp, and Phil let out a contented sigh. “I'm always happy when I'm with you,” he mumbled, “I like having dinner with you and–just having you here–doing normal every day things–it's just, I'm happy. . . I feel happy.”

Dan smiled, and his eyes were glowing. “Yeah.”

Phil lifted his head and smiled back, placing his hand on Dan's cheek gently. “I've always been alone. Looking back, I think I was always a little lonely,” he confessed quietly, and he didn't know why he was suddenly revealing his inner thoughts. He usually never told people about his past. No one was interested in stupid sob stories anyway. “I–I've never had someone I could proudly call my family.” His voice was a little shaky, but he wanted to convey his emotions properly to Dan. “I'm really glad you came back, Dan,” he whispered, “I didn't know what to do, I–”

Dan cupped his face, and Phil stilled, staring down at him wordlessly. His face was so close that Phil could see the kindness buried in the depth of his eyes and the gentle expressions of his face. Dan was beautiful, with freckles on his cheeks and tousled brown hair. He was beautiful from the dark colour of his eyes to the tips of his toes. It made his heart pound. He had always thought Dan was attractive, but more than that, he loved the sound of his laugh, and the glint in his eyes when he was excited. He loved the tenderness of Dan's touch, and the way his lips curled into a smile. He loved the little, annoyed noises Dan made just before waking up in the morning. 

There was a lump in Phil's throat, and he didn't know how to express what he was feeling. Their breaths mingled in the air, and Phil felt Dan's knowing gaze like something almost tangible and just out of grasp. “D-dan, I–”

Dan smiled, leaning up just a little to kiss him. His hands slipped down from Phil's face to grab the collar of his shirt, and his mouth moved slowly, a little hesitantly. Phil swallowed, and he knew there were still many problems in their way. He knew the road ahead would be extremely hard. He _knew_ everything was a mess, but . . . but god, it was a beautiful mess.

Dan's lips were so soft and willing, Phil's mind was foggy. His hands reached out instinctively towards his wings, heart thudding with an unmistakable desire to touch, feel, know. He shoved Dan back, slender fingers angling his head as he kissed Dan, pressing his body flat against Dan's, their chests squished together. He slipped his leg between Dan's thighs, slowly pushing them apart. A small gasp left Dan's mouth, and a surge of pleasure burnt through Phil's stomach. He was filled with desire, and heat rolled through his belly, rumbling throughout his body. 

Dan's weak, shaking fingers reached up to grip Phil's shoulders, and his tongue tangled with Phil's softly. Phil pressed him back against the pillow, his hands slipping under Dan's T-shirt to explore his soft skin. Dan flinched back from his cold hands but wrapped his arms around Phil's neck, pulling him down roughly. Phil's lips trailed down Dan's jaw. “I love you,” he whispered, pressing gentle kisses on his neck and shoulders. “I'm really happy you're here.” Dan shivered, and Phil smiled, giving the soft skin a gentle bite. “I love you.”

Dan's breathing was heavy, and Phil slowly pressed his knees against Dan's crotch. Dan jerked back and let out a soft noise from his throat, his wings spreading across the bed beautifully. “Phil,” he breathed.

Phil stared at Dan, mesmerised. He stood back on his knees and looked down at Dan. He swooped Dan back into a kiss almost instantly, and he felt Dan whimper, melting against Phil's body. His wings fluttered, and the feathers glistened gorgeously in the darkness. Phil's heart thumped, and he placed little butterfly kisses on Dan's jaw. His teeth scraped lightly against Dan's pulse point, sucking tenderly. Dan shivered, and Phil could feel the vibrations on his lips. It was remarkable. His stomach was taut with anticipation, and he didn't want to waste a single second. He unbuttoned his shirt with trembling fingers and helped Dan remove his T-shirt, taking a deep breath to calm his pounding heart.

He leaned down to connect their lips once again. His cock twitched, and his arousal grew. Dan's fingers tangled roughly in Phil's dark hair, a little painful but not enough to stop his movements. Phil pressed his body against Dan's, rubbing his erection lightly against Dan's hardness. An intoxicating wave of lightheadedness hit him at once, and a honey-sweet haze fogged up his thoughts. The background melted away, and he could only see Dan and nothing else.

Phil pressed kisses along Dan's neck and across his chest. Every nibble and light bite made Dan's finger tighten around his hair, and Dan rewarded him with gasps and little whimpers. Phil felt his heart rate quicken and his breath stutter. His cock pulsed in his pyjamas, and he licked his lips desperately. “Can I?” he whispered in a rough voice, slipping two fingers inside the hem of Dan's pants. “Can we–”

“Yes.” Dan panted harshly and stared at him, his face red and desperate with arousal. “Please,” he choked out. “It feels weird.”

Phil forced himself to look up. “Weird?”

Dan nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. His wings fluttered aggressively. “My heart–” His fingers curled on his chest, and he panted. “–is beating so fast. I can't calm down.”

Phil let out an amused, breathless laugh. “Same.” He pulled Dan's pants down to his knees. His cock sprang out, and Phil swallowed nervously, hands inching up Dan's thighs. He was unusually anxious, and he took another deep breath to steady himself.

Dan's eyes were wide under his dark, tousled curls, and his face was filled with nervous anticipation. His hands clutched the sheets tightly, and he breathed deeply. “P-phil . . .” He gulped. “I've never–winged people don't–”

“I know,” Phil whispered gently, “I know. It's alright. Relax, okay?”

Dan swallowed and nodded anxiously, biting his lip tightly. Phil leaned down and licked the tip of his cock, wrapping his fingers around the base. Dan threw his head back and shuddered, his mouth opening in a silent gasp. He heaved and his hands clutched the sheets shakily. Phil kissed the head and licked slowly, coaxing his erection. Dan panted with wide eyes, and Phil took the tip gently into his mouth. His tongue slid under the shaft, and he sucked softly, tasting Dan's pre-cum in his mouth. Dan let out a moan, and his breaths tumbled out of his mouth in loud, heavy pants. He squeezed his eyes shut, and his beautiful, blissed-out face made Phil's cock ache, and his pulse jump. 

Phil pumped Dan's member with his hand, licking and sucking the head before taking him deeper into his throat. He felt his arousal building and building with every little noise and moan Dan made, and he couldn't resist touching himself. He breathed deeply through his nose and swallowed Dan whole, gripping his thighs and letting saliva trickle down his chin. Dan gasped and arched his back, his hand desperately pulling Phil's hair tightly. Every time he looked at Dan's face, his heart pounded, and he couldn't take it anymore. Soon, he was at his limit.

“Phil, I can't–I–” Dan moaned, and his wings fluttered noisily, smacking Phil on the face. 

Phil pulled away quickly. “Ow,” he muttered, wiping his chin and raising an eyebrow at Dan.

Dan panted and heaved, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. “S-sorry.”

“It's alright,” Phil murmured, moving away and leaning over Dan to open the bedside drawer. He snatched a packet of condom and lube hastily, dropping them next to Dan's legs. His heart was hammering against his chest, and he took a deep breath to calm down, leaning down to give Dan a soft kiss. His hands slipped down to tug Dan's cock, swiping the wetness on the tip with his forefinger. Dan arched his back and gasped, “P-phil.” 

“Hmm? What?” Dan bit his lip and averted his eyes, breathing heavily. Phil's lips twitched upward, and he wanted to keep on kissing him forever, but judging by Dan's ragged breaths and squirming hips, he was at his limit. Phil pulled back reluctantly, grabbing the bottle of lube and uncapping it wordlessly. 

Dan's eyes widened, and he swallowed nervously, moving back against the pillows quietly. Phil coated his fingers with lube, caressing Dan's thighs with his free hand. Dan's legs were shaking, and his wings fluttered loudly. Phil was painfully hard, and he could feel his own impatience clawing at him, but he wanted Dan to enjoy it without being afraid. He frowned lightly. “Do you want to stop?” he asked breathlessly, “You don't have to force yourself. We can stop if you–”

“No, please–” Dan blurted hastily, “Don't–” Phil's hand brushed his knee, and Dan whimpered, “D-don't stop.”

Phil nodded, staring at Dan's eager face. He was beautifully pliant and equally impatient. His cock leaked pre-cum onto his stomach, and his chest rose and fell with desperate breaths. Phil's heart fluttered in his chest, and he bit his lip earnestly. “O-okay.”

Phil knelt slowly between Dan's legs and let his finger circle the opening with a feather-light touch. Dan shut his eyes tightly and sucked in a sharp breath. Phil felt his cock twitch, and his heart pound. “Are you alright?”

Dan let out a shaky breath and nodded wordlessly. Phil smiled gently, rubbing his knee soothingly. “Relax,” he whispered, slowly pushing the digit in. 

Dan's mouth fell open in a soundless moan, and his fingers clutched desperately around the sheets. “P-phil, it's–”

“What's wrong? Do you want to stop?” he asked in concern.

Dan shook his head breathlessly. “N-no, keep going,” he choked out, “Feels weird.” He breathed deeply and swallowed. “What about–what about the– _ngh_ –machines?”

“Machines? What machines?” he asked, pushing the digit deeper inside. He let it rest there for a few seconds before slowly moving it. 

Dan's breaths quickened, and his body trembled. “P-phil, I–the machines–” he gasped. “–in the videos on pornhub.” His wings shrunk to his back, and he closed his eyes tightly, his chest rising and falling irregularly. 

“Relax, Dan. Breathe. There are no machines, okay?”

Dan panted, but he managed to nod. “O-okay.”

Phil's eyes were glued to Dan's messy hair and swollen, red lips. Tiny beads of sweat on his body made his skin glisten like gold, and Phil could feel his cock throbbing, and his stomach squeezing with desire. “Relax,” he repeated.

Phil wordlessly added the second digit, gently making scissoring motions and spreading him open. Dan's little moans and shaky breaths filled his ears, and he couldn't resist himself. He leaned over cautiously and kissed Dan, swallowing his moans. His fingers pushed deeper, and Dan shuddered, kissing him back desperately. 

It didn't take long for him to get used to it, and Phil was soon adding the third digit, moving in and out swiftly. Dan trembled and gasped, throwing his head back and letting out a wavering moan. “ _Ngh._ P-please–Phil–”

Phil placed a quick kiss on Dan's lips and moved back, pushing his pyjamas away and pouring lube on his achingly hard cock. His slick hand pumped his erection, and it felt incredibly good. His breaths came out in ragged pants. He was so desperate that it was becoming almost insanely painful, and he couldn't wait to be surrounded by wet heat. He stared down at Dan's tangled locks, red skin and debauched face, his hand moving faster automatically. He let out a quiet groan and reluctantly let go of his cock, standing between Dan's thighs and positioning himself at the entrance. He paused for a moment, taking a deep, steadying breath and forcing himself to calm down. “You alright?” he managed to ask, pushing the tip lightly against the rim.

Dan's mouth opened in a daze, and he nodded with wide, desperate eyes. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice small and shaky, and his wings surprisingly still and silent, as if waiting with bated breath for something to happen. _Anything._

Phil's cock throbbed, and his entire body was shaking and screaming at him to move, touch, _feel._ Phil's senses were suddenly heightened. Dan's scent was everywhere around him. The aroma of his shampoo, and the smell of body lotion with a hint of sweat. Phil was submerged in a sweet, dizzying fragrance, and his head felt all fuzzy, his thoughts all disconnected. His hands trembled as he lifted Dan's legs, pushing in bit by bit. 

Dan gasped, arching his back and letting out a soft moan. Phil was suddenly hit with a sense of undeniable urgency. The heat that welcomed him was so good and overwhelming that he nearly fell on top of him. He supported himself by slamming his hands on either side of Dan's head, resting his forehead against Dan's shoulder and taking in a steadying breath. He inhaled deeply a few times, pushing halfway in and pausing to catch his breath. He was already at his limit, and he was shocked at himself. He had always had more stamina than anyone, and it was the very first time he felt so desperate for release.

“Are you okay?” Phil repeated again to confirm, moving back slightly and pushing further in until he was completely sheathed inside. 

Dan was biting his lip tightly, his shaking hands grasping the sheets anxiously. “I–I am.”

Phil leaned down and kissed Dan gently, ignoring the terrible desire to thrust roughly. “Relax,” he whispered softly, placing feather-light kisses down his jaw. “It's okay. Breathe.” Dan's face was tense, and he looked breathless. “Just tell me if you want to stop, and I'll stop, okay?”

“N-no, it's just–” Phil adjusted his position, and Dan squeezed his eyes shut. “It just feels a little weird.”

“Does it hurt?”

Dan shook his head. “No.”

Phil nodded and pulled back. “I'm going to move now, okay?” 

“Please,” Dan choked out.

That was all Phil needed to hear. He pulled out and pushed back in slowly, gouging Dan's reactions carefully. Dan threw his head back immediately with a gasp, and Phil slowly began to move. He wanted Dan to be as comfortable as possible, and he was willing to endure the painful arousal to make sure Dan enjoyed his first time. He leaned down to place tender kisses on Dan's mouth, pushing in deeper slowly with every thrust. He swallowed the small noises and hums Dan made, gradually increasing the pace. He slipped his hand down to tug Dan's cock, and almost immediately, Dan's lips slipped away from his grasp to let out a broken moan. “P-phil– _ngh–I–”_

Phil pressed butterfly kisses down Dan's jaw, sucking, licking and giving Dan gentle bites on his neck. It felt sweet and tantalising and exhilarating. The heady smell of sex and sweat in the air was dizzying, and he felt like he was losing his mind. “Fuck,” he groaned, leaning back and grabbing Dan's legs. He pulled back completely and slammed back in desperately, breathless and dangerously close to the edge with every slide of his cock inside Dan. 

Dan threw his head back and moaned. “P-please–” 

Phil didn't know or comprehend why Dan was pleading, and for what, but it didn't really matter. His hands shook, and his cock was aching. He adjusted his position and found a perfect rhythm. His thrusts were long and deep, and a little faster than usual, but Dan didn't seem to mind. He was clinging to Phil, moaning softly and making incoherent noises as he arched his back and messed up the sheets around him. Phil reached between them again and pumped Dan's cock, thrusting desperately.

Dan shuddered and moaned, saliva gathering at the corner of his lips as he knocked his head against the headboard in his orgasm-induced delirium. “I–I can't–please, want . . . want to–” He whimpered, shaking all over. “–bite. P-please–” He arched his back, and his skin glistened with a sheen of sweat. His wings fluttered abruptly and outstretched fully on both sides, glimmering beautifully in the pale light. He gasped and with a loud, broken moan, he shuddered violently and came into Phil's hands, collapsing back against the pillows breathlessly.

It was truly a sight to behold, and for a few seconds, Phil had the urge to stop and watch, but his own desperate desire for release stopped him. Dan lay motionless in front of him like a divine thing, elegantly naked, with milky white skin and magnificent black wings spread out on the bed, messy locks splattered on the light blue pillowcase. His arms and limbs were gracefully-positioned as if he was a part of an exquisite ancient painting. His breathless face and exhausted eyes were enough to send Phil over the edge. To him, Dan was a work of art.

“Shit.” Phil groaned. His orgasm ripped through him, and he shuddered lightly, leaning down to kiss Dan. “I love you,” he whispered breathlessly, coming inside Dan. He panted heavily and moved lazily a few more times, pumping Dan with a shaking hand and helping him come down from the high of his orgasm. His breaths were fast and ragged, and he managed to pull out before his knees finally gave out. He collapsed on top of Dan, resting his sweaty forehead on Dan's shoulder and breathing harshly.

“Fuck,” he whispered shakily. “That was amazing.”

Dan was completely silent, but his breathing was unusually rough. His wings fluttered loudly, and he abruptly grabbed Phil's shoulder, pulling him up suddenly. Phil blinked in shock and his mouth opened. “What happ– _Ow_ _!_ _”_ Phil cursed loudly in pain. Dan's sharp teeth dug into the skin of his neck, and he flinched. “Dan!”

Phil could feel his skin tearing apart, and his hand pushed against Dan's chest hastily. “What the fuck–” he gasped in pain. “Dan, wait–”

Phil noticed the strength of Dan's arms for the first time. He pushed Dan desperately, but Dan didn't budge. His arms squeezed Phil tightly, and his wings wrapped around him. Phil couldn't move at all. “Dan, what–”

Dan pulled back quickly, licking the blood that trickled down his lips. His eyes were bright red, and he wrapped his arms around Phil. “Mine.”

Dan's arms were loose unlike before, and Phil pulled away with a frown. “Dan,” he said worriedly, “Why are your eyes red?”

There was a strange look in Dan's eyes, and Phil patted his cheek. “Hey, you okay? Dan?”

Dan grabbed Phil, almost smothering him with a tight, squeezing hug. “Mine,” he growled.

Phil arched an amused eyebrow and pushed him back forcefully. “Okay. I got it, Dan. What's wrong with you?” he asked with concern, cupping Dan's cheeks. “Dan. Hey. Your eyes are red,” he whispered, shaking Dan's shoulders lightly. “Dan.”

Dan blinked suddenly, rubbing his eyes roughly. “S-sorry,” he whispered in a shaky voice. “Um, sorry, I got carried away.” He took a deep breath, and his eyes returned to normal immediately.

Phil frowned, touching the tender skin of his neck. “Ow. That hurt,” he mumbled in pain, “What the hell was that?”

Dan smiled and wrapped his hand around Phil's neck, pulling him down to hug him. “Just marking.”

“Marking?” Phil pulled back again and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. 

Dan grinned suddenly, and his wings wrapped around Phil. He nodded happily but didn't explain. “I love you.”

~*~

The room was submerged in a calm darkness that made Phil's eyelids droop with sleep and his chest feel all warm inside. It was almost dawn, just a little before sunrise, and there was a frosty chill in the air that clawed at his skin. His arm was wrapped around Dan's waist, and he pressed kisses on Dan's shoulder, his wings stuck between their bodies. They hadn't slept all night, wasting time watching movies and having sex, but Phil could tell that the physical and mental exhaustion was finally taking a toll on him. He tangled his limbs around Dan's legs and felt immensely content. 

“Dan?”

Dan shivered and shuffled closer. “Mm?”

“Are you asleep?” he asked quietly.

Dan yawned loudly, moving away and turning to face Phil. “No . . . but I'm tired.”

Phil smiled, leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips. Dan smiled back, shifting closer to Phil happily. “I went to the cabin yesterday,” Phil disclosed in a slurred voice. “To see you.”

Dan blinked. “Really?”

Phil nodded. “Yeah, Anthony helped me get there, but I should've just waited here because you came back,” he mumbled, “I saw the Village too. It was amazing. Winged people are pretty amazing.”

“You saw the Village?” Dan asked with surprise in his tone, “I've never been to the Village. How was it?”

“Really? It was beautiful,” Phil replied sleepily. “There were so many trees and plants everywhere. It was great.”

“Mm.” Dan hummed, sticking close to Phil. “Can I ask you something?” he whispered against Phil's neck.

Phil raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“What did you mean when you said you don't have a family?” 

Phil stilled, and his fingers tangled in Dan's curly locks. He sighed. “My mom died when I was young, and my dad kicked me out a few years ago,” he confessed in a silent voice, “I don't have any other family.”

Dan was quiet for several seconds, but then he pulled back and looked up, cupping Phil's cheeks gently. “You have me now,” he whispered in a soft, reassuring voice.

Phil placed his palm above Dan's hand and smiled. “Yeah.”

Dan's hand slipped to his neck, his fingers pressing down on the newly formed wound. Phil flinched. “Ouch. That still hurts, Dan,” he complained.

Dan grinned brightly, wrapping his arms around Phil's neck and squeezing him tightly. “I love you.”

Phil stilled and swallowed, biting his lip tightly. He hugged Dan back and stayed quiet for several minutes, trying to find enough courage to ask what he wanted to. “Dan,” he mumbled.

Dan tucked his face under Phil's chin and hummed. “Yeah?”

“What about you?”

Dan pulled back and frowned confusedly. “What do you mean?”

Phil gulped. “What about your family?” he asked reluctantly, and he immediately noticed the way Dan's body tensed. “I've always wanted to know, but I didn't want to force you. I honestly thought you would tell me eventually, but you never did, and I–I thought it was fine even if you didn't tell me because I didn't think I would see you again. I thought it would be harder to forget you if I learned everything about you. I thought it didn't matter, but it does now,” he rambled in an honest, eager voice, “I want to get to know you. I want to know who you are. I want to know everything about you.”

Dan blinked, and he stared at Phil with sadness in his eyes. He averted his gaze shamefully and stuttered, “Phil, I–I can't–”

Phil placed his hand on Dan's cheek and whispered, “Tell me.” His sleepiness and exhaustion lifted from his eyelids, and he was suddenly full of determination. “I know I hurt you deeply, but you haven't been completely honest with me either. You're hiding something, Dan. I want to know what it is,” he whispered softly, “Tell me.”

Dan swallowed and looked away. “I can't.”

“Dan,” Phil pleaded, “Please tell me.”

Dan hid his face under Phil's chin. “I–I want to,” he disclosed in a quiet voice, “I want to tell you. I don't want to hide anything from you. I want to tell you everything. I want to be honest. I want to talk about everything with you, but I can't.”

Phil frowned. “Why not?”

“I . . . I just can't, Phil,” Dan murmured in a shaky voice, pulling back and meeting his gaze. “I can't tell you because . . .” He bit his lip and his eyes turned sad. “Because I don't know . . .”

Phil blinked in confusion. “What?”

“I don't know who I am. I don't remember.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! :) Have a great day! <3


	38. Amelia

“What?!” Connor shouted in a shrill voice, glaring down at the short guard who was standing stoically in front of him. He was more aggravated than usual, and every little thing made him want to explode into pieces. The massive oak doors of the throne room loomed behind him, and Connor had an irritating urge to kick it down and burst into the room without an iota of hesitancy. His forehead was hot to the touch and burning; he could almost feel the steam erupting from his head, and it was ready to blow up with raw, bitter anger. He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, gesturing wildly with his hands. “Why? Why now?” He inhaled deeply and paced back and forth with his eyebrows furrowed in extreme disorientation. “What is he thinking?”

“I'm sorry.” The guard bowed in apology, but he looked hilariously unfazed.

“Why does he want to declare Dan's death? Does he think Dan is dead?” he yelled loudly, trudging to the nearest wall and kicking it in annoyance. He was acting unlike himself, but both of the guards had taken one look at his neck, and a knowing look had passed between them. “He is Dan's _father_. What the fuck!” he cursed, pulling his hair in frustration. “I'm doing everything I can! Why now?”

“Er.” The guard hesitated, and Connor narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “It's not King Dominic . . . it's _your_ father who wants to do it.”

Connor blanched and veered around in surprise. “My . . . my father?” he choked out, “Did he order–” A loud thudding noise interrupted their conversation and stole his attention. He glanced back to see that a young, familiar-looking maid had dropped a plastic bucket, spilling water across the intricately detailed carpet. She let out a gasp when she saw him, bolting to her feet and disappearing around the corner without looking back. He scowled in disapproval, turning back to the guard in front of him.

“Yes.” The guard nodded, glancing away from the wet carpet. “King Dominic is apparently very sick. I haven't seen him, but the maids told me that–”

“The maids?”

“Yes. The maids say that he's suffering from, er, memory loss. The king has temporarily appointed your father–”

“Wait.” Connor halted, and his eyes widened. “Memory loss?”

“Yes.”

“What the–” Connor rubbed his forehead. “What is going on? Why was I never told? Why am I only finding out about this now?”

The guard glanced away reluctantly. “Er, well, your father . . .” he trailed off uncertainly.

Connor's hands balled into fists, and he gritted his teeth, sidestepping the guard and marching forward in sizzling fury. The guard moved out of his path fearfully, shuffling back to his position with a worried look on his face. Connor pushed open the door in a frenzy, completely infuriated and enraged on Dan's behalf. He walked in with several insults already waiting on the edge of his tongue, but his confidence immediately shattered into tiny bits when he saw his father sprawled lazily across the sofa, surrounded by dozens of bodyguards with tall, well-built bodies and stern faces. Dread coiled around his throat almost immediately, and he could feel the ominous tension in the cold air.

“Father,” he whispered in a pained voice, glancing fearfully at the bodyguards who looked incredibly tough and staunch. His head throbbed and ached, and his urge to see Rayna was intense.

“Oh, Connor!” his father greeted cheerfully, “Welcome.”

“Father,” he sighed heavily, “What are you doing? God, this is ridiculous. Have you gone mad?”

His father sat up with a confident smile. “I have told everyone to stop searching for Dan. It's very unfortunate, but he's dead.” He shrugged. “Poor boy.”

“Father!” he shouted, offended. His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to explain, but he was stopped by the creaking noise of the opening door. He glanced back to notice the same maid walking into the grand room with a glass of water. He turned back absently. “Fath–dad,” he amended, “Dad, please. This is embarrassing. You are embarrassing me. Please stop. I'm begging you. You can't call off the search. Dan's not dead. He's alive. This is getting ridiculous. I'm serious. You look like a fool.”

His father's eyes narrowed, and he waved his hand. Two bodyguards near him stepped forward, and Connor's eyes widened comically. “W-what?”

The bodyguards steadily walked towards him, grabbing his arms without a single word. Connor stared at his father, completely horrified. His father rolled his eyes and sighed. “I don't have to explain anything to you, son. I will call for you after the preparations are done.”

“Preparations?” Connor shouted, struggling to get away from the bodyguards, “Preparations for what?”

His father ignored him completely. “Throw him out, and don't let him enter the throne room without my permission,” he muttered in a bored voice, “What a stupid child you are. Your mother was the same.”

Connor's blood boiled. “Fuck you!” he yelled loudly as the bodyguards pushed him back to the ground, closing the door in his face. He got up hastily and dusted his pants carefully, glaring at the door in rage. “You can plan whatever you want, but it'll end when Dan comes back,” he shouted at the door, fuming internally. He kicked the door angrily. “This is not going to work, dad. You know that.”

Connor huffed and turned away, only to come face to face with Dan's mom. His eyes widened instantly, and he gasped in surprise, immediately adjusting his tie and tucking his shirt in properly. He gulped nervously and lowered his wings as a sign of respect, bowing his head and staring at the floor stiffly, waiting for her to walk away. Her footsteps were light and elegant, and Connor could see her gorgeous gown flowing across the floor behind her. She was never interested in politics, and it was very rare for her to be in this part of the castle. She was usually in the greenhouse with her wonderful, exotic plants. Concrete suffocated her, and Connor wondered why she was here.

“Connor.”

Connor swallowed in surprise when she stopped in front of him. She was a very kind and gentle lady, but she had always had that knowing look in her eyes, as if she knew everything that was going on in his head all the time. It was a little disorienting. “H-hello,” he blurted, slowly lifting his head and glancing up at her smiling face. She was said to be the only winged person in the entire world with pure, pearly white wings. She was probably the main reason behind Dan's . . . _special_ powers. “Er, h-how are y-you?”

She let out a small, amused laugh, and her voice was soft and refined. There was sadness in her eyes, but she still looked extremely kind. She extended her pale hand and patted his head. “Relax,” she told him.

Connor swallowed and nodded. She was the only winged person in the world who would touch another person without any hesitation. Connor never felt bothered by it for some strange reason, and he couldn't understand why. “Sorry,” he mumbled politely. “Er . . . it's rare for you to be here . . .”

She smiled and removed her hand, stepping away from him. Her white wings sparkled in the bright sunlight pouring through the windows, and she looked almost like a goddess. “Yes. I'm trying to see every part of the castle before I forget it all.”

Connor frowned. “What?”

She smiled and turned away. “You already look stressed. I'm not going to trouble you with my problems as well,” she admitted in a kind voice. Connor furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, and the Queen turned to glance at him. “Oh, congratulations.”

Connor blinked. “What?”

“You two look good together,” she told him before walking away and disappearing down the stairs at the end of the corridor.

Connor's hand instinctively lifted to touch the mark on his neck, his cheeks slowly turning red with embarrassment. He bit his lip, and his hands trembled slightly. His mind was muddled with disoriented thoughts, and each one screamed for priority. He took a deep breath to steady himself and turned around. His vision was unfocused as he ambled down the corridor and marched up the stairs, taking a short cut through a random room and heading to Dan's library where his partner was waiting for him. The thuds of his footsteps on the floor echoed throughout the empty corridors of the castle, and it slightly unnerved him. His wings turned sharp, and he was sure he could feel someone's presence behind him, following him.

Connor whirled around abruptly, staring at the dark, sombre corners of the corridor with narrowed eyes. He frowned and turned back, stepping towards the library doors. Almost immediately, a calming, floral fragrance entered his nostrils, and the library doors opened with a loud creak. He blinked in shock, but before he could register what was happening, someone's soft, lithe body collided against him, his hands automatically tangling in silky blonde hair. “Whoa–”

“Connor!” Rayna chirped happily, her arms wrapped around his neck.

Connor's head cleared immediately, and his shoulders relaxed. His worries instantly melted into nothing, and he felt stress-free and light-headed. “Rayna,” he whispered in a relieved voice, hugging her tightly. “I missed you.”

Rayna pulled back and smiled, intertwining their fingers and standing by his side. Connor felt better immediately, and a small smile bloomed on his face. “Thank you,” he expressed genuinely.

Rayna smiled. “You're welcome,” she chirped.

“Wait,” Lydia gasped in shock, and Connor turned his head, noticing her presence. She rose to her feet from where she was sitting on a chair.

The library used to be Dan's favourite place in the entire castle. It was massive, with expensive rugs on the floor and a stained glass ceiling that poured beautiful colours on the floor. It had rows and rows of Dan's favourite books stacked against shelves that ascended toward the tall ceiling without an end in sight. There was a giant spiralling staircase on one side, and a comfortable sitting area with plush sofas and chairs on another side. Connor could almost see Dan's silhouette on the sofa where he always used to sit with his book, and he felt a little miserable.

“Wait, why–” Lydia slapped a hand on her mouth with wide eyes, “Why are you two hugging and holding hands–”

Rayna hugged his arm cheekily and grinned, and seeing her smile made his chest flutter. They walked in together, making their way through the room to where Lydia was waiting. “Well . . .”

Lydia gaped at them, glancing at their necks with surprise. “Whoa, did you get bonded?” she asked in shock, “Seriously?”

Connor halted next to the sofa and wrapped an arm around Rayna's waist with a small smile. “Yeah.”

Lydia gasped. “Oh my god!” She squealed. “When? Wait, when did you exchange feathers? Why didn't you say anything?”

Connor shrugged, and Rayna shuffled closer, placing a brief kiss on his cheek and resting her head against his shoulder. “A few days ago,” Rayna said happily. “I wanted to wait, but this guy–” She elbowed Connor, and Connor smirked. “–is so impatient. He wouldn't stop throwing feathers at me.”

Connor shrugged. “Our bond is still pretty new,” he revealed absently, tangling his fingers in Rayna's golden locks and placing a kiss on her head.

Rayna rolled her eyes with a smile, and Connor smiled, pulling her to his lap. She shrank her wings and sat between his legs. Connor's arms absently wrapped around her waist. He placed his chin on her shoulder and looked up to see Lydia's bewildered expression. “Ew, it's weird to see you both like this,” she muttered with a frown. “I'm never getting bonded. I love my single life.”

Rayna turned to place another kiss on Connor's cheek, and Lydia's surprised expression melted into extreme concern. She lowered herself to a chair, glancing at Rayna worriedly. “Are you going to be okay? I've never seen you both like this,” she expressed in a hesitant voice, “I'm really happy for you, but you do know that newly bonded couples are awfully clingy, right? They can't stay away from each other. Things are really messy right now, Connor. Was it really a good idea to get bonded at a time like this? You could've waited until–”

Connor hugged Rayna tightly. “I honestly thought that was just an exaggeration. I thought I would be able to resist the force of a new bond, but I can't,” he sighed, grasping Rayna's hand and placing kisses on her fingers. “I can't stay away from her. It'll take at least a month to get used to it. I've had a fucking headache all day. It's terrible.”

Lydia crossed her legs and sighed. “Things are just getting worse and worse. It worries me.”

Connor narrowed his eyes and looked up at Lydia's stressed face. “Did you find anything new about Dan?”

Lydia shook her head. “Nothing,” she mumbled in a despaired voice, “We've searched every nook and corner of the Village four times. We can at least confirm that he's not in the Village anymore.” She folded her hands and relaxed her wings, looking contemplative. “Theo hasn't said anything. Hunters don't have him. Where did he go? It's like he just vanished into thin air.” She huffed. “I'm honestly starting to lose hope.”

Connor pursed his lips, and Rayna turned her head worriedly, placing her palm on his cheek and rubbing soothing circles with her thumb. “How are things at the Organization?”

Lydia averted her gaze dejectedly. “Terrible.”

Connor blinked. “What?”

Rayna let go of him reluctantly, standing up gracefully and stretching her wings. Connor had an immediate urge to pull her into a kiss, but he managed to somehow resist the terrible urge. He sat back on the sofa and folded his arms tightly, staring longingly at Rayna's back. Why did she leave him?

“Oh, don't look at me like that,” Rayna huffed, grabbing a file of documents from the table and dropping into a chair in front of him, “I'm not going anywhere.”

Connor felt uneasy, and he reached out to touch her with his hand. “But you're so far away–” Lydia gave him a blank look, and he shut up immediately, dropping his hand back to his lap. “Sorry . . .”

Rayna looked up from the file with a grim look on her face. “If Dan doesn't come back soon, we will have to shut down Blood Bank C and D,” she muttered in a solemn voice.

Connor's eyes widened, and he sat up immediately. “What? Why?”

Rayna flipped the page and frowned. “About two thousand donors and five hundred volunteers quit this month,” she revealed tensely, “It was Dan who encouraged the Villagers to work in the Organization. Without him, many people are going to quit.” She looked down at the page sadly. “They don't want to work with humans, but they did it for Dan.”

Lydia huffed. “Our people and humans don't get along, but everyone trusted Dan,” she elaborated, “Humans don't feel safe around Winged people without Dan, and most of our employees are more hostile around humans because they think humans have imprisoned Dan. It's all a giant mess.”

“This is serious, Connor,” Rayna relayed in a rigid voice, “We won't have enough blood for everyone. Several Villagers are already unsatisfied with the Organization. If they don't get blood from us, they won't mind attacking humans. It's the worst-case scenario, but it can happen. We're somehow able to live here peacefully because of the treaty, but if we start attacking humans, it'll start an all-out war.”

“We're at a severe disadvantage here,” Lydia mumbled, “We can't win.”

Connor remained silent for several minutes, staring at the floor tensely. He knew Dan's disappearance had affected several people in many different ways, but he had never considered the severe impact it would have on the winged society as a whole. His breath staggered, and his eyebrows creased in concern. “Where did Dan even–”

Suddenly, the whole vacant library echoed with loud, thudding noises of numerous books dropping to the floor. Connor's neck snapped back to stare at a particular shelf in the dark, narrow corner of the library, away from the windows and dimly lit. His eyebrows immediately furrowed, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. The feeling of someone else's presence was intense, and he glanced at Lydia and Rayna's confused faces. He placed a finger on his lips and gestured for them to be quiet, staring at the dark corner with doubtful eyes. “Who's there?” he asked in a cautious voice.

There was a silent flutter of wings and a barely audible gasping noise. Connor stepped forward, peering at the shelf warily. “I know you're there,” he disclosed truthfully, “Stay right where you are. You've been following me, haven't you? I don't know who you are, but if you have a good reason for doing it, I'll let you go.”

There was a small squeaking noise, and the thumps of hasty footsteps. Lydia and Rayna exchanged worried looks, and Connor let out an exasperated sigh. He threw his hands into the empty air, and his wings shot out from both sides, outstretching towards the ceiling. He grabbed a few feathers with both hands and flung them in the direction of the noise, dropping his hands back to his sides with disinterest. The footsteps stopped immediately, and Connor carefully lowered his wings, trudging forward with anger. “I told you to stop, didn't I?”

Connor ambled around the shelf, ready to explode with anger at whoever was behind it. He was sure it was an enemy, someone who had been following him and eavesdropping on him. He stepped in front of the mysterious person and looked up, immediately halting in his place. “What the–”

The same maid from before was standing before him, her skirt pinned to the wall behind her by his sharp feather. She was desperately pulling her skirt and trying to pluck the feather, but Connor had thrown them with force, and it would take much more strength to pull them out. Dan would've been able to do it, but not this frail-looking, young girl. “Don't move,” he ordered briskly, standing stoically in front of her, “Don't touch it. You can't remove that feather without my permission. It will sever your fingers. Stay still.”

The girl immediately let go of her skirt, biting her lip and staring at the floor fearfully. Rayna and Lydia walked up behind him as Connor glared down at the girl. “Who are you?” he demanded angrily, “Why are you following me?”

The girl glanced away, biting her lip tightly. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, looking terrified.

“I didn't ask for an apology,” Connor grumbled irritably, “Tell me who you are, and what you're doing here.”

“I . . . ” the girl stuttered nervously, “I'm Amelia. I just started working at the castle as a maid a few months ago. I'm just–I'm just cleaning, I swear.”

Lydia nodded. “She's telling the truth. I've seen her around. She works here.”

“That may be true, but she's hiding something,” Rayna muttered confusedly, “Look at her face. A normal maid would never look so terrified for no reason.”

Lydia shrugged. “She looks normal to me. She's new.”

Connor frowned. “What are you trying to achieve by working here? Are you spying on us?”

“No!” she denied, “I'm not doing anything.”

“That's obviously a lie,” Rayna interrupted, folding her arms across her chest. “Tell us the truth. You were listening to our conversation, weren't you?”

Amelia bit her lip and glanced at Connor. “Um, uh, yes. I was–I was listening. I–”

Connor arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Who are you?” Rayna asked with a huff. “You have two minutes to explain yourself . . . or do you want me to take you to the torture chamber?”

“T-torture–Torture chamber?” The maid stammered with a gulp.

Connor glanced at Rayna and raised an amused eyebrow. He had grown up inside the castle, and he had every single corner of the castle memorised in his mind, but he had never known about the existence of a torture chamber. His lips twitched up into a lopsided smirk, and he opened his mouth to ask, but a sharp glare from Rayna hushed him immediately. “Yes. Torture chamber,” he blurted quickly in panic, “It's where torture, uh, h-happens.”

“Who told you to follow Connor?” Rayna asked haughtily, folding her arms across her chest.

“N-no one,” Amelia stuttered, “I was just–”

Rayna rolled her eyes and sighed. “We should call the guards and take–”

“No!” Amelia shouted, “No, wait. Wait. I'll tell you. I'll tell you. Please.” She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Please don't call the guards.”

Rayna nodded with satisfaction. “Good.”

Amelia bit her lip anxiously, glancing at Lydia doubtfully and turning back to Connor. “No one told me to follow you,” she murmured in a choked voice.

Rayna lifted her hands exasperatedly. “That's it. The torture chamber is the best op–”

“No, I'm telling the truth, I swear,” Amelia blurted hastily, “Please believe me. I'm not lying. No one told me to follow him. I was just trying to find out if he's trustworthy.”

Connor raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

Rayna frowned. “What?”

Amelia hesitated. “I . . . I started working here to help someone,” she whispered in a reluctant tone, “Someone . . . erm, someone you know . . .” she trailed off.

Connor narrowed his eyes curiously. “Someone we know?”

Amelia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, looking determined. “I wanted to see if we can trust you because . . .” she swallowed and bit her bottom lip tightly, glancing away anxiously.

“Because?” Connor asked, stepping closer curiously. “Because what?”

“Because I know where Dan is.”

There was a shell-shocked silence for a long time, and the emptiness of the library seemed oddly eerie. Connor stared at Amelia. “You . . . you what?”

Amelia nodded earnestly. “Yes, I do.”

Rayna narrowed her eyes doubtfully. “You're lying.”

“Definitely,” Lydia quipped.

Amelia faltered. “No. Please. Believe me,” she pleaded, “I'll tell you everything I know. I already know I can trust Connor. I've been trying to find a way to talk to him for a month, but he–his scent is strong, and he always looks angry so I couldn't get close.”

Rayna folded her arms across her chest and glared down her nose at Amelia. Amelia stared back nervously. “Please. Let me explain,” she choked out anxiously. “I swear I'm not lying.”

Rayna clenched her jaw and sighed heavily. She stepped forward and grabbed the feathers, pulling them away one by one. Connor frowned. “Wait, Rayna,” he muttered dubiously, “Don't–”

“Let's hear her out,” Rayna mumbled in a determined voice. “We don't have any other choice, Connor. She doesn't look like she's lying. Let her explain. If she tries to do something, you can stop her. She looks weak anyway.”

Connor opened his mouth to protest but snapped his jaw when he realised how right Rayna was. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. He glanced at Lydia. “Lydia.”

Lydia blinked at him and nodded back with a knowing expression on her face. “I'll go and close the doors,” she assured, walking away without another word.

Amelia brushed her skirt nervously and followed Connor and Rayna towards the sitting area. She fidgeted and threw terror-filled glances at Connor as she sat down on a nearby chair, keeping her distance. Connor crossed his legs wordlessly and absently awaited Lydia's return. It took Lydia ten minutes to close all the windows and doors, and Connor quietly watched Lydia walk back into the room with a tray full of snacks and cups of tea. She placed it down on the table with a small clatter, looking up at Connor. “Good thing I asked the guards beforehand to bring us tea,” she said with a smile, handing him his cup and turning to Amelia. “Do you want–”

“No, thank you,” Amelia interjected immediately.

Rayna folded her arms and dropped next to Connor on the sofa. “Talk,” she ordered in a threatening voice, “Lydia closed all the windows and doors. You can't get out of here. Tell us everything you know.”

Amelia swallowed and nodded. “Yes. I will.”

Lydia grabbed a biscuit from the tray and popped it into her mouth. “Why didn't you say anything until now?” she asked confusedly, “You know what is happening. The king is sick, and everything is a mess. Why did you stay quiet if you knew where Dan was? What are you plotting?”

“I . . .” Amelia hesitated, “I didn't know who to trust.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Connor frowned.

Amelia swallowed and took a deep breath. “Dan . . . Dan didn't disappear.”

Rayna scoffed. “What?”

Amelia stared at the floor without meeting anyone's eyes. “Dan's been living in the cabin near the Midnight lake,” she blurted. “I was the one who told him to stay there.”

There was an odd silence for several seconds, and Connor arched an eyebrow confusedly at Rayna to find her staring back with an equally doubtful look. “No, he's not,” he disclosed with a frown, “Lydia and her group searched the whole village and the Midnight lake. Dan wasn't there.”

Amelia chewed on her bottom lip. “No, he _was,”_ she repeated confidently.

Connor frowned. “What are you–”

“Connor,” Lydia said suddenly with wide eyes, grabbing his undivided attention immediately. “We didn't see Dan, but there were several signs which indicated that someone was living there. Someone was definitely living in the cabin. There were clothes and money and fresh fruits on the table.”

“Did you see the person who was living there?” Rayna asked cautiously.

Lydia shook her head. “No. We waited for almost an hour, but er, we were in a hurry so we just searched the place and left quickly after that.”

Connor narrowed his eyes and folded his arms across his chest. “Why? Why would Dan live there? What reason does he have to hide from Lydia? From us? From the people who need him? I'm finding this really hard to believe.”

Amelia hesitated, and Rayna narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Are you trying to trick us? Why would Dan live in the cabin? Why would he leave the castle? Dan knows we need him. He would _never_ leave the Village without telling us. He has no reason to hide.”

“He does have a reason.”

Connor scowled. “No, he doesn't–”

“Dan doesn't know you need him–”

“What are you–”

“Because he doesn't remember anything,” Amelia blurted desperately.

Connor stilled and blinked, snapping his jaw shut immediately. He glanced at Lydia and Rayna with wide, perplexed eyes and frowned with deep confusion. “W-what?”

Amelia intertwined her fingers tightly. “He doesn't remember anyone. He doesn't remember who he is. He didn't even know his name was Dan Howell,” she clarified, glancing at everyone's baffled expressions and continuing her explanation. “I . . . I found him several months ago near the Midnight lake. Dan looked sick and injured, and he was with a few guards. It looked like they were arguing, and–” She gulped in fear. “One of the guards hit him on the back of his head. I saw it.”

“W-what?” Connor gasped. “What the fuck are you talking about? The guards would never–no, that's impossible. There is no way–”

“I swear,” Amelia said desperately, “I saw it. The guards tried to kill Dan. I'm a witness, and I can testify–”

“And Dan just stood there like an idiot?” Connor arched an eyebrow. “Look, none of the guards would ever hurt Dan. They respect Dan. A lot. You're telling me that Dan didn't fight back? There's no way. Absolutely not. He's not that weak. You can try to hit Dan in his sleep, and he would wake up before you even raise your hand. That's who he is. That's our Dan. Why would he–”

“Dan looked sick!” Amelia interrupted, “I told you, Dan looked weak and sick. Maybe that's why he couldn't fight back. I'm not lying–”

Connor frowned. “I don't believe–”

“Connor,” Rayna interjected sharply, “You don't have to believe her, but let her finish her story.”

“You keep interrupting her. Let her talk,” Lydia chastised. “If she's lying, we can just fire her later.”

Connor opened and closed his mouth, sitting back against the sofa with a deep sigh. “Alright.”

Amelia nodded. “I managed to see the guards' faces. I later found out that their names are Tony and Oscar,” she disclosed in a nervous voice, “I helped Dan back then. I waited until the guards left, and I somehow managed to take him to the cabin. He was–his injuries–it was really bad. They really wanted to kill him. It was almost like they didn't finish the job on purpose and just left him there to die painfully.”

Lydia frowned. “You helped him?”

Amelia nodded. “He was weak, and he was unconscious for a month, but I kept feeding him blood, and–and I know I don't look like it, but I'm actually a nurse. Somehow I was able to save his life.” Her voice got quieter. “I thought he would be alright. I tried my best, but when he woke up, he didn't remember anything.”

“Why didn't you just call someone from the castle?” Rayna interrupted with suspicion. “Why didn't you inform King Dominic?”

“I tried to!” Amelia complained, “But they wouldn't let me in. The guards at the entrance kept asking me why I wanted to meet the King, and I was scared to tell them about Dan. I saw the guards hurting Dan, how am I supposed to trust them? Even after Dan woke up, I was afraid to bring him back to the castle. He didn't remember anything! What if the person who tried to kill him does it again? Someone inside the castle obviously has a grudge against him!”

Amelia halted and looked away reluctantly. “They wouldn't let me talk to the King directly so I started working here as a maid, but–but King Dominic fell ill, and I didn't know what to do.” Her eyes became teary, and she sniffed. “Tony and Oscar don't work here anymore so I tried to become friends with them to find out who was trying to hurt Dan, but it didn't work out. Both of them know Dan is alive, and they are having fun tormenting him because he doesn't know he's _the_ Prince.” She wiped her nose with a handkerchief and sniffled. “It's a big mess, and I know I fucked up. I should've told _someon_ e, but I was really scared. I'm sorry.” Her voice cracked, and she wiped her eyes. “I'm really sorry. I thought if anyone found out I saved him, they would kill me too.”

Connor glanced awkwardly at Rayna, and Rayna shrugged sadly. Amelia blew her nose on her handkerchief and continued, “I thought I would be able to handle it, and I was hoping Dan would regain his memories eventually, but Tony and Oscar were bothering him, and he disappeared from the cabin.”

“Wait, he disappeared again?” Lydia asked doubtfully. “So, you don't know where he is?”

Amelia hesitated for a moment. “I tried my best to deliver some food and blood every day. I even gave him some money just in case, but I got stuck at the castle due to work, and I wasn't able to bring him food for a few months,” she replied guiltily, “When I finally went there to check, Dan wasn't there. He was already weak because he refused to drink blood for some reason. His injuries weren't healing at all. He was really weak, and he kept asking me to change him into a human, or kill him.”

Connor blinked in surprise and stared at his hands solemnly. “Dan doesn't drink blood,” he mumbled quietly

Amelia frowned. “He–he doesn't?”

“Well, he does, but he only drinks it once every few weeks and he only drinks just enough to survive,” Connor disclosed sombrely. “He drinks animal blood to stop his craving.”

Amelia stared at him in befuddlement. “Why?”

Connor shrugged quietly. “Dan hates that he's a winged man. He always has,” he whispered pensively.

Amelia looked extremely confused. “But why?”

Connor sighed heavily. “He witnessed a murder when he was young. A winged man killed a human for blood, and he saw that,” he revealed in a tense voice, “It was a little traumatising for him. He stopped drinking blood after that, and he hates himself for being born as a winged man. It doesn't help that he–he has a _special_ ability which can kill anyone instantly.” Connor's eyes turned a little misty as he reminisced it. “Someone called him a murder machine a long time ago, and Dan gave him a black eye. He really hates who he is.”

Amelia lowered her eyes sorrowfully. “Oh.”

“Where did he go?” Rayna asked, “We searched the whole village. Where–”

Amelia shook her head. “I told him to stay away from the Village and to never reveal who he really is to anyone. I made him promise not to tell anyone about it. I didn't want him to get caught by whoever is trying to hurt him,” she disclosed, “He would never tell anyone. I told him that if he told anyone about himself, _I_ would be the one in danger. Actually, he doesn't even believe he's a prince. He thinks he's an animal who should die.”

Connor gulped. “Did he really forget everything?”

Amelia nodded. “Yes. Everything.”

Rayna tapped her nails against her knees and narrowed her eyes. “Look, I'll be honest. You don't really look like you're lying, and I want to believe you, but . . . how are we supposed to trust you?” she expressed in a soft voice, “You said you know where Dan is, but now you're saying he disappear–”

“I know where he might be,” Amelia revealed bluntly.

Connor shot forward in his seat with wide eyes, giving Amelia an eager stare. “You do?”

“Yes.” Amelia nodded. “I tried to become friends with Tony and Oscar, and I saw Dan . . .” she trailed off hesitantly. “He was–he was with a human. I think he's living with a human.”

Connor's jaw dropped, and he stared at Amelia in absolute shock. “He– _Dan_ is . . . Dan is _living_ with a human?” he stuttered out in bewilderment.

“Yes. I picked up his scent, and I think I can find him if I try.”

“You picked up _Dan's_ scent?” Rayna narrowed her eyes doubtfully, scrutinizing Amelia.

Amelia shook her head. “No, Dan didn't have a scent. I remembered the smell of the human instead. Why?”

Lydia's eyes widened at that, and she gaped at Connor. “I have a feeling that she really met Dan,” she said in a stunned voice. “How does she know Dan doesn't have a smell?”

Connor pursed his lips. “Maybe she has met Dan before.”

“Dan doesn't have a smell?” Amelia furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “What does that mean?”

“It's one of his skills,” Connor explained. “He has always been able to mask his smell. I don't know how.”

“We would've found Dan by now if we knew what he smelled like,” Rayna sighed heavily.

Amelia nodded. “I remember the human's smell. I can find him. Dan is probably with him.”

Connor didn't know how to react. “Are you serious?” he asked solemnly, “You really know where Dan is? You can take us there? Are you lying? Is this a trap? Are you working with the humans?”

Amelia's eyes widened, and she rushed to explain, “No!” She gulped anxiously, “I'll come with you. I swear I'm not lying.”

Connor frowned slightly. “But why would Dan live with humans? It's dangerous,” he contemplated confusedly, “Most of the donors are fine people, but the rest of them hate winged men. I feel bad for saying this, but humans are a little uncivilized. They hate people slightly different than themselves, and I can't imagine Dan actually _living_ with them.”

Amelia seemed equally confused. “Um, well, I'm not sure about that, but like I said, Tony and Oscar were tormenting him, and I think Dan decided to leave the cabin because of that.”

Connor scoffed. “Tormenting? Some random winged men bullying _Dan?”_

“Well, he doesn't remember who he is,” Rayna corrected, “It's possible that he doesn't want to fight back.”

“They are not random winged men. They are former guards,” Amelia repeated quietly, “I thought they would try to kill him if they found out he was alive, but they haven't. I don't know why.”

Connor frowned, squinting his eyes and clenching his jaw. “Did you find out who was trying to hurt him?” he asked suspiciously.

Amelia shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. I haven't.”

“Hmm.” Connor intertwined his fingers and kept quiet for a while. “Well, I have an idea about who it might be.”

Rayna rolled her eyes next to him. “I'm not surprised.”

Lydia sighed with a huff. “We all know who it is.”

“Don't say it,” Connor warned with a sharp look. “Both Dan and King Dominic have memory loss. I just remembered that Dan was sick for months before he vanished. Everything is connected, but we have no idea how this is happening. We can't deal with that right now. We can't do _anythin_ g at the moment. We don't have any proof, and we don't have many people on our side. Our best option is to keep quiet. Do not say anything. We don't _know_ anything,” he explained with a glare and turned to Amelia. “We have to find Dan first. If we can just bring him back, we might have a chance to do something.”

Amelia nodded. “I'll take you to Dan. I remember the place where I saw him. I think I can follow the human's scent from there.”

“If Amelia can't find him using his scent, I can ask Theo for help,” Lydia suggested, “Her team can search all of the buildings in the area.”

Connor nodded, standing up confidently. “Let's go.”

Amelia's eyes widened. “What? Right now?”

“Yes.” Connor arched an eyebrow. “I'm still not fully convinced. I can't let you go without confirming you're telling the truth. It's better to get it over with.”

Amelia stared at him in confusion. “But . . . but it's still afternoon . . .”

Connor smirked and shrugged. “So?”

Rayna smiled. “It's safer than going at night.”

Amelia glanced at them both with fear-filled, dubious eyes. Lydia let out a small laugh and thumped her on her back. “Don't worry,” she said in amusement, “We know what we're doing.”


	39. Shocked

_“I don't know who I am. I don't remember._ ”

Phil blinked repeatedly in puzzlement. For a few extremely disconcerting moments, he didn't even know what Dan had just said. He somehow heard it. He heard the sentence that had slipped out of Dan's lips, but he couldn't comprehend it. His mind was oddly calm, and he let out a small, baffled laugh. “Er, what?”

Dan bit his bottom lip tightly, and he looked strangely nervous. “I don't know anything about myself. I don't remember anything. I don't know who I am, or where I came from. I don't know if I have a home or friends or–I don't know anything because I don't remember anything. I–” He swallowed quietly. “I just don't remember anything.”

Phil pulled away and stared at Dan in shock. His thoughts were suddenly in disarray, and it felt like his heart had stopped beating in his chest. Silence pressed against his ears, and he swallowed. “You . . . you are joking,” he stated with a frown. “This is a joke, right? You're pulling a prank on me. What? Did you see it on YouTube? In a movie or something?” He let out a breathless laugh. “Oh, wow. I'm pretty surprised. You never joke about things like this–”

“Phil.”

Phil stopped abruptly, staring at Dan's pursed lips and tense face. He blinked, and his heart slammed into his throat. He moved away completely and sat up, looking back at Dan. Dan didn't meet his eyes, and there was a rigid silence for a long time. Phil's mind was muddled. “S-so . . . so, what?” he asked fearfully, “You–you lost your memories? You don't remember anything? What is this? A movie?”

Dan sat up silently, staring at his hands awkwardly. His eyes were anxious, and Phil could tell he was scared. Dan gulped and hesitated. “Do you hate me now?” he asked in a small, vulnerable voice.

Phil snapped his jaw shut immediately and leaned forward to hug Dan. “No,” he breathed, “I just–I don't know how to react. This is . . . it was very sudden . . .” He took a deep, steadying breath. “I just don't know how to–what to say. What am I supposed to say? How should I react? It's just–wow, it's . . . it was shocking, Dan. I don't know what–” He stopped himself and squeezed Dan tightly. “Fuck, what am I supposed to do?”

Dan hugged him back. “I'm sorry for not telling you.”

Phil's heart thumped with pain. “Are you really not joking? You're telling the truth? Is this really happening right now?” Dan nodded against his shoulder, and Phil felt as if a massive cave had opened in his stomach. “How–how did this happen? What happened? You don't remember _anything?_ Like–like–your family or–or just–like _anything_?”

Dan shook his head and wrapped his arms around Phil's neck. “I don't. I don't know who I am. I don't remember much about my life, but I–I have bits and pieces of memories,” he mumbled in a small voice, “I remember my–my mother's face a little bit. I know I'm a winged man, and I know what it means to be a winged man. I remember . . .” He trembled, and Phil pressed a comforting kiss on his head. “I remember something painful that happened a long time ago, but–but it's still blurry. I have dreams about a lot of people, but I don't know who they are. I just get the feeling that I've met them before . . .”

Phil pulled back and stared at Dan's face for a long time, and he didn't know what to say. He was taken aback and extremely concerned. “When did–when did this happen? Was it because of an accident? A head injury?” he asked nervously, “Did something happen to you? How did it–”

“I don't know,” Dan whispered, “I . . . I have a friend who helped me, but I can't talk about her. I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone. She was nice to me. I don't want her to get in trouble.”

Phil bit his lip and stared at Dan. “Dan, I–I don't know what I should–” He stopped and took another deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “You don't have to tell me everything right now, but–but I can't just forget about this, Dan. This is–this is massive. I can't just let it go. I'm–I'm shocked.” He sighed deeply. “Whoa. Fuck. I'm really shocked.”

Dan looked guilty. “I'm sorry.” He placed his palm on Phil's cheek and murmured, “I will tell you everything, I promise. I–I will call my friend and tell her to come here, or–or we can meet her. I want to tell her about you, and she knows more about me than I do. She knows about my family, but she says that I can't go back to them just yet.” He looked up hesitantly. “You saw her once. She was there with Tony and Oscar that night. Do you want to meet her?”

“Yes,” Phil blurted breathlessly, “Yeah, I want to learn more about you. I want to know–wait, I think you should see a doctor. Let's go to a hospital. You should–I think you should–”

“Phil,” Dan murmured softly. He wrapped his arms around Phil and buried his face into Phil's neck. “I love you.”

Phil swallowed harshly, and his mind was spinning. Dan didn't have any memories of his life. Dan didn't remember his family. Several distressing thoughts rushed to his brain and suffocated him. Who was Dan? Did he have a home? Was he even born here? Was this Dan and the Dan who had all of his memories the same person? What if Dan was already bonded to someone? What if Dan actually had a boyfriend? What if Dan was actually married and had kids of his own? Was Dan even gay? Did memories affect his sexuality? How did Dan lose his memories and end up alone? _Would_ he ever remember anything?

Questions and speculations coiled and tangled inside Phil's head. He squeezed Dan tightly, and his chest felt tight and suffocating. He already knew how painful it was to be away from Dan, and he didn't want to go through that all over again. His hands trembled, and he buried his nose in the crook of Dan's neck and shoulder, swallowing the terror that slowly arose inside him.

“Phil . . .” Dan whispered in a soft voice. “You're panicking.”

Phil swallowed painfully. “Sorry.” He pulled back and stared at Dan. “I . . . I just don't want you to leave,” he whispered in a delicate voice, “What does this mean? What does this mean for us, Dan? I don't want you to change your mind and leave.”

Dan smiled reassuringly. “I won't, Phil.”

“But–but what if you regain your memories and decide you don't want to be with me anymore . . .” Phil said vulnerably. “Dan, I . . . I don't . . . I can't tolerate that. I want you to stay. Stay with me. I can't–”

Dan placed his palm on Phil's cheek. “Calm down,” he murmured, leaning up to place a kiss on his mouth. “That won't happen. We're bonded.”

“Oh.” Phil blinked, and he suddenly felt extremely relieved. “Right. Yeah. That's right. We're bonded.” He hugged Dan against his chest and signed heavily. “I'm glad we are.”

Dan nodded, and Phil whispered, “But you should still see a doctor. Not here, but maybe in the Village–”

“I have to ask my friend about it first.”

“Okay,” Phil agreed, “When can I–when can I meet this friend? I have a lot of questions. I'm–I don't even know how to react right now, Dan. I want to know how this happened. Did it happen before I met you?” Dan nodded. “Okay. Do you know how it happened?”

“No. I don't know anything about myself. My friend told me some things, but . . .” Dan hesitated. “I don't believe it.” He sighed softly. “I'll try to contact her. She told me to leave a note in the cabin if I ever want to see her.” His voice was suddenly quiet and shaky. “Will you–will you come with me to talk to her?”

Phil swallowed silently. “Yeah. Okay.”

Dan nodded against his shoulder. “Yeah.” He placed his chin on Phil's shoulder and whispered, “I love you. I want to stay with you. Relax. I'm me no matter what.”

Phil took a deep breath. “Yeah,” he whispered back with a relieved sigh. “Yeah. I know. You're right. You are _you_ no matter what.” He closed his eyes and felt Dan's warmth against his body. “No matter what.”

~*~

“Dan,” Phil huffed affectionately, “Stop clinging to me.”

Dan's hands wrapped tightly around Phil's waist, and he placed his chin on Phil's shoulder. “No.”

“Dan, I need to pee.”

Dan pouted. “But I love you.”

Phil sighed heavily. “I know, but I still have to pee.”

Dan clung to him desperately. “I don't want to be away from you.”

Phil stopped and turned slowly. “Okay, but you have to let me go to the bathroom.”

“I love you.”

“Dan!” Phil huffed, frowning slightly. “You're acting strange.”

Dan pouted, moving his hands away and stepping back reluctantly. “Okay, I'll let you go to the bathroom . . . but–but don't take too long,” he mumbled in a vulnerable voice. “I get scared . . .” He stared at the floor. “I don't want you to leave me . . .”

Phil blinked in surprise and stared at Dan. “Oh.”

“ _I_ _don't know who I am.”_

Phil's heart thumped, and he immediately pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He sighed softly and pulled Dan into a hug. “I'm not leaving you,” he whispered, and he sounded emotional. He couldn't help it. The shocking revelation Dan had suddenly dropped on his head was still bothering him immensely. He tried to stop thinking about it, but he was still feeling confused and conflicted. He just couldn't understand how he was supposed to deal with such a distressing information.

Phil swallowed anxiously and pulled back, wearing a mask of silliness to hide his misery. “I'm just going to the bathroom, Dan,” he huffed with a roll of his eyes, “You don't have to be so overdramatic about it.”

Dan stared down at his feet in silence, and Phil shook his head at Dan, opening the bathroom door and walking in. He closed the door quietly and let out a small, exasperated sigh. Dan was acting strange. He wouldn't stop touching Phil all over the place, and he looked distressed every time Phil stood up, or expressed an interest in anything other than him. Dan had insisted on staying in bed all day, and his behaviour was extremely and unbelievably clingy. It was unlike him, and Phil contemplated it with furrowed eyebrows. What was the cause of Dan's sudden clinginess? Was he afraid Phil would leave? Could it be because of their newly formed bond? Could it be . . . because Phil now knew about his memories?

Phil frowned and shoved that thought back instantly. There was nothing he could do about it, and worrying would help no one. Phil was going to meet Dan's friend anyway, and he was sure it would all be okay. They were bonded, after all. There was no way Dan would ever leave him. Dan's feelings were genuine, and Phil trusted him completely. He nodded to himself in determination and let out a small, exhausted sigh. He cleared his mind, and slowly let his thoughts wander to something else, something a little less distressing . . .

He sighed heavily and wondered if they were really bonded. Dan had told him they were bonded, but were they _really_ bonded? PJ had mentioned some kind of ritual that completed the bond, but he couldn't remember Dan performing any ritual. He had imagined it be some kind of tribal ritual which involved reciting an incantation but . . . that sounded strange and nothing of that sort had happened anyway.

Phil blinked and slapped a hand against his neck, the realisation dawning on him. “Oh.”

“Phil?” Dan knocked on the door.

“Yeah?” Phil pulled up his pyjamas quickly and washed his hands in the sink.

“Someone just rang the doorbell.”

Phil frowned. “Yeah, wait, I'm done.” He opened the door, and Dan tackled him into a hug, making Phil stumble back and bash his head against the wall in the process. “Ouch. Dan!”

Dan giggled. “Sorry.”

Phil sighed with a small smile, wrapping his arms around Dan's waist and giving him a brief kiss. “It's probably Anthony and PJ. I texted PJ a while ago to tell him about you. He said he wanted to come over to talk.”

Dan pouted. “Oh.”

Phil looked at Dan with surprise. “What's wrong?”

“I just wanted to be alone with you,” he muttered and sulked. “I hate them. I bet they're here to take you away from me. It's pissing me off.”

Phil raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Dan, you are acting super weird . . .” He frowned. “Do you have a fever?” He placed his palm against Dan's forehead. “No, you don't.”

Dan leaned forward and placed a big, wet kiss on Phil's cheek. Phil let out a laugh and stumbled back. “Ew, Dan,” he chuckled, wiping his cheek. “You're nasty.”

Dan shrugged and grinned. “I love you.”

Phil smiled. “Wait here, okay? Let me see if it's really them.”

Dan nodded hesitantly. “Okay . . . but–but don't take too long . . .”

Phil huffed exasperatedly and turned away, opening the door. His footsteps were light, and his mind was calm. The heaviness he had felt in his chest during Dan's absence had disappeared a while ago. He smiled a little to himself as he opened the door, greeting Anthony with a small wave. “Hey.”

Anthony arched an eyebrow. “Well, looks like everything turned out to be just fine.”

Phil scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Uh, yeah.”

PJ was standing behind Anthony, and he waved absently, lazily walking in. Anthony glanced to his left side awkwardly, looking back at Phil guiltily. “Uh, Phil . . .”

Phil frowned, holding the door open. “What? Come in.”

Anthony sighed deeply and averted his eyes reluctantly. Something moved in Phil's peripheral vision, and he snapped his neck to the side to notice someone stepping away from the wall. He gave Phil a cheerful salute. “Yo.”

“Luke!” Phil exclaimed in a high-pitched voice. He blinked and cleared his throat. “W-what are you doing here?”

Luke shrugged. “I was actually here to see Anthony, but–”

Anthony took a deep breath. “Phil, I'm really sorry–”

“–I can't leave without meeting the mysterious winged man,” Luke said with a small grin.

Phil stilled and his eyes widened comically. He grabbed Luke and Anthony and pulled them inside hastily, locking the door hurriedly. “You told him?!” he asked Anthony in shock.

“It was PJ!” Anthony rushed to explain, “He revealed that he found out about us being donors, and Luke asked me how he found out about it. I had to explain everything! He's perceptive. He was already suspicious. He already knew you were hiding something!”

Phil stared at Anthony for a while and sighed heavily. “Whatever. I guess it's fine. It's just Luke.”

Luke hummed with a smug smile and followed them to the drawing-room. PJ was already sprawled on the sofa, scrolling through his phone and looking uninterested in Luke's enthusiasm.

“So, where is the winged man? I know a lot of winged people. I can help,” Luke expressed genuinely, “Why is he staying with you? It's dangerous. The Village is open to all winged men. He just needs to ask, and someone will always be willing to help. I'm sure he can get a job and a place to stay immediately.”

Phil glanced at Anthony, and Anthony shrugged. “Er, well, um . . .” Phil didn't know how to tell Luke that Dan did, in fact, have a family, but he just didn't remember anything about them. Phil still wasn't completely sure what specific circumstances had led to Dan staying in the cabin, but he knew it was something complicated, and they had talked at length about meeting Dan's friend. Dan was still confused about the events of his own life, and according to him, his friend was more capable of explaining everything.

“Hm?” Luke arched an eyebrow, looking around. “Where is he?”

Phil huffed exasperatedly. “Dan!” he called, “It's okay. You don't have to hide.”

Luke halted immediately, and his gaze narrowed as he looked at Phil. “Dan?”

Phil shrugged absently. He looked back when he heard hesitant thuds of footsteps and walked to the hallway to support Dan. Dan never liked greeting strangers, and Phil could feel his anxiety from this distance. “Dan?”

Dan walked out of the bedroom and looked at Phil in confusion. “Who is it? I can smell–” He looked up with a frown. “It's that guy.”

Phil arched an eyebrow. “What?”

Dan shook his head, and he stared at the floor. “It's . . . it's that guy you were with . . . I smelled his scent on you that time when we saw Tony and Oscar . . .”

Phil blinked. “Oh.” He grasped Dan's hand and squeezed. “I don't like him like that, okay? I love you.”

Dan nodded reluctantly. “I know.”

Phil smiled reassuringly. “He's just my friend now, okay? I'm sorry for lying to you that night,” He rolled Dan's sleeves to his elbows gently. “If you really don't want to see him, I can tell him to leave.” He looked up at Dan. “I know it's making you uncomfortable, and that's okay. I can tell him to leave. I don't mind.”

Dan bit his bottom lip and shook his head. “No,” he mumbled, “I trust you. It's fine.”

“Dan–”

Dan shook his head. “It's fine.”

“Okay.” Phil smiled, and Dan grabbed his T-shirt, following him with a displeased frown on his face. Phil huffed at him and walked back into the drawing-room. Dan hid behind him immediately, already refusing to greet Luke. Luke was waiting eagerly to meet Dan. Phil waved with an exasperated smile, and Luke arched an eyebrow as soon as he saw Dan, tilting his head contemplatively. “Is that the winged man?”

Phil nodded. “Yeah.”

Luke raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Why is he hiding?”

“Erm, he doesn't like new people,” Phil told him.

“Oh.” Luke nodded understandingly, but then he blinked and stared at the floor. His eyebrows furrowed, and he glanced at Dan's hand on Phil's body. “Wait–” His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “Wait a minute. Why is he standing so close to you?”

“I don't like him,” Dan grumbled, cutting Luke off. He slid his arms around Phil's waist and placed his chin on Phil's shoulder, frowning at Luke suspiciously.

Luke halted immediately, stilling like a stone. He blinked and stared at Dan's face with wide, startled eyes for an unbelievably long time. His jaw dropped, and he let out a sudden, stunned gasp. “What the–” He stumbled back with shock. “What the fuck!”

Phil furrowed his eyebrows, looking back at Dan's equally confused face. “What's wrong?”

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck fuck fuck,” Luke mumbled repeatedly, his expression panicked and anxious as he staggered back. He rubbed his eyes hastily and gaped at Dan with disbelief in his gaze. “That's . . . wait, _whoa,_ that is–” He swallowed breathlessly. “This has to be a dream. This is a fucking dream, isn't it?”

Phil gave Anthony an appalled look, and Anthony shrugged back in confusion, frowning at Luke. “Luke, what–”

“What are you talking about?” Anthony asked.

“No, wait, that is definitely–It can't be . . . Fuck. No, I'm sure of it. That is definitely Dan Howell. That's him. That's definitely him. Yes. Obviously. That is most certainly him,” Luke rambled rapidly, breathing heavily, “What is the fucking _Prince_ of winged men doing here? What is–what the hell!” Luke exclaimed with wide eyes, “Anthony, you told me Phil saved a winged man, but you didn't tell me that that winged man was the fucking Prince!”

Anthony looked confused. “What?”

“He was here. He was here all along. He was right here, and no one knew. Oh god, there is no way this is real. Fucking hell, man. What are you guys even doing? This is a fucking disaster,” Luke muttered to himself hastily, staring at the floor with wide eyes. He stopped suddenly and looked up at Dan with terror on his face. “Oh, fuck. I'm sorry for freaking out in front of you–”

“Prince? What?” Phil was thoroughly confused. “What are you talking about? Do you know Dan?”

“I don't know him,” Dan mumbled, hugging Phil tightly.

Anthony frowned at Luke for several minutes, looking puzzled. He looked back and forth between Dan and Luke and gasped abruptly. “Wait. Wait. Wait. No, wait a minute. Dan–Dan is . . . Dan is the . . . Dan is _the Prince?_ ” he stared at Luke with wide eyes, looking shocked. “You mean–what, no–are you fucking serious? Is this a joke?”

PJ was the only person in the room who looked completely unbothered and relaxed. He watched everyone with a lazy gaze, sprawled on the sofa comfortably. “Wow, you guys are actually idiots,” he muttered in a bored voice.

Phil blinked and stared at his friends in bewilderment. He felt Dan's fingers tighten around his T-shirt, and he frowned. “Can someone explain what–”

Luke stared at Dan with shocked eyes, and his hands were trembling. “H-how am I supposed to act in front of a Prince? I–shit, I'm sorry for being rude and stupidly rambling. Er, um, I was just shocked. E-everyone is looking for you. What are you–” He cut himself off hastily, looking terrified. “P-phil, I, er, I don't think you s-should stand so–so close to–” Luke's eyes trailed down to Phil's neck and back up to his face. “You're bonded to the fucking Prince?”

PJ, who had been lying lazily on the sofa all this time, gasped at that, sitting up immediately with wide eyes. “You did what?!”

Anthony's eyes widened instantly, and he stared at Phil's neck. “Phil, you fucking asshole, why would you–”

“What is even going on? What the fuck. I never expected–” Luke interjected.

“–I told you, Anthony. I told you he would do this. I knew it. I knew it from the start. I was right–” PJ was shouting behind Anthony.

“I told you to apologize to Dan. I told you to talk to him. I never told you to bond with–”

“Do you even _know_ what you've done, Phil? You got bonded to a Prince who is obviously involved in some kind of controversy. Why would you–”

“You're a fucking idiot, Phil. I fucking warned you multiple–”

“Oh my god, Phil is bonded to an actual Prince. Is he going to be the next King? Oh, wait, that's not how it work–”

Suddenly, everyone was talking over each other, and the room was filled with incomprehensible shouting noises and arguments that didn't make any sense. Phil's attention jumped from Anthony to Luke to PJ, but he couldn't tell who was saying what anymore. He took a deep breath and bellowed, “SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

All conversations immediately ceased. Dan shuffled closer anxiously, hiding behind Phil timidly. Phil stared at his friends with a frown. “Can anyone explain what is happening?” he asked with an arched eyebrow. “You're scaring Dan.” He frowned in deep confusion. “Why are you freaking out? What are you talking about? Is Dan related to a Prince?”

Luke's eyes widened, and he frowned. “Could it be . . . you don't know? Dan didn't–erm, Prince Daniel? He didn't tell you? Don't you watch the news?”

“Nope. Nope. Nope,” PJ rambled in the background. “I'm _not_ getting involved in this. This bond thing is way too troublesome. I am packing my things _tonight_ , and I am moving to Australia. I did not just witness this. I know nothing. I'm leaving. I'm gone. I'm changing my name and leaving the country. Goodbye–”

“Pri–Prince?” Phil blinked. “Prince Daniel? W-what? What the hell are you talking about? Are you high?”

“No!” Luke denied, “The person–the winged man hiding behind you is _the_ Prince who went missing!” He swallowed and took a deep breath. “Didn't you see it on the news? It's fucking everywhere. Even other countries are looking for him because he's just _that much_ important.”

Anthony swallowed and rubbed his forehead, looking up at Phil. “I have no idea if your Dan is _that_ Dan but . . .” he trailed off nervously.

Phil stared at Anthony, frozen and shell-shocked. “I still don't–I don't–”

Anthony sighed. “King Dominic, Phil. Prince Daniel is King Dominic's _only_ son. Do you not know anything? He is the person that inherited the special ability from his mother, Queen Alexandra, who is said to be the only person in the entire world with pure white wings.”

Phil's breath caught in his throat. He was just an ordinary person, and Anthony and Luke's words were utterly mystifying and beyond his comprehension. “W-what?”

Anthony gaped at him. “You seriously don't know, Phil? White wings are said to be so rare and precious that long ago, winged people with white wings were called descendants of _gods._ How can you not know about it? About Prince Daniel? The Royal family is _famous!_ ”

Phil felt like his heart had stopped beating in his chest. He stared at Luke with wide eyes and Luke nodded back hastily. “Don't you get it?” Luke blurted, “He is Prince Daniel! How did this even happen? Why is he with you? Wait, why is he hiding behind you? Prince Daniel would never–” he stopped abruptly and frowned.

Phil gaped at Luke in shock for several seconds, but he finally managed to find his voice. “Wait, that's not–No, that can't . . . no, that's not possible. How can you be so sure? I do watch the news. They didn't show his face. Dan's not–”

“I work in the Village. I've seen him,” Luke blurted, but then he frowned slowly. “But–but yes, I have never approached him because he always looks a little intimidating. He's very solemn and stoic, but–” He glanced at Dan who was hiding behind Phil. “Did I make a mistake? Prince Daniel would never wear those tacky clothes and–and hide behind someone.” He blinked. “A doppelganger, maybe?”

“No,” PJ muttered suddenly, “That's Dan. I don't know what is wrong with him, but he's definitely Daniel Howell.”

Phil's heart throbbed, and his stomach sank. “No, this–this is not–” He breathed deeply, “Dan is not–Dan can't be–Maybe they just look alike. Dan can't be–”

“Phil . . .” Dan whispered, and his voice sounded guilty. “I'm sorry . . .” His voice was shaky. “My friend said something similar . . .”

Phil stilled, and he felt a lump growing in his throat. He looked back and saw Dan's face filled with remorse, making him snap his jaw shut. “Oh fuck,” he whispered.

Anthony gulped. “Holy shit.”

Luke frowned, staring at Dan. “But, no, sorry, maybe I made a mistake. Phil is right. That can't be Prince Daniel. He wouldn't–”

PJ shook his head. “No, I'm sure he is the Prince. I figured it out a while ago.”

Anthony frowned. “What?”

“Yeah, I knew,” PJ disclosed with a shrug. “Some of the Hunters who are looking for the Prince have his photo. It's a secret though.”

“You knew?!” Anthony blurted in shock. “What the–why didn't you–”

PJ arched an eyebrow. “Why didn't I say anything?” he asked, “Well, because you wouldn't believe me. I wasn't even sure if this Dan was that Dan, but now I am. I didn't want to make things complicated. I'm sorry.” He turned to Phil, giving him a sharp look. “Ask him, Phil. He'll tell you everything. Dan is a Prince. It's a fact. Ask him.”

Phil's mind was turning, and he didn't even know how to react anymore. His stomach churned, and he hastily grasped Dan's hand tightly, staring at the floor with a million different thoughts running through his head. “No,” he murmured in a shaky voice.

“What? Ask him,” PJ ordered with furrowed eyebrows, “I've been wondering about it, but why is he here and not at the castle? What is he plotting? Why is he pretending to be someone else? What is he planning by staying here? What does he want?”

Phil stared at the floor solemnly. “I don't know.”

“Ask him.”

“No.”

PJ scoffed. “What? Why?”

Phil clenched his jaw and swallowed. “Because he is not the Prince.”

PJ stared at him for several tense moments. “Look, Phil, you–”

“He doesn't remember anything, alright?” Phil snapped rigidly, “You have no proof. Maybe they look alike. Dan can't tell you who he is because he doesn't remember anything. He doesn't remember his family or friends. He has Amnesia.”

PJ blinked, and he looked shocked. Luke and Anthony gaped at Dan, and Dan's arms tightened around him. PJ frowned and opened his mouth, closing it wordlessly. Anthony stepped forward with a frown. “Guys.” He placed his finger on his mouth and gestured to be quiet.

PJ stood up immediately with an alert look on his face. “Someone is at the door.” The doorbell rang suddenly, and PJ nodded. “There it is.”

There was silence for a long time, and everyone was throwing Phil terrified glances. Phil turned to Dan. “Go.”

Dan whirled around without protest, disappearing down the hallway in the blink of an eye. Phil watched him leave and stepped forward quietly. “I will open the door.”

The sudden tension in the room was pressing and unbearable, and his friends were certainly on edge. Luke especially was shaking all over. He stared at Phil with shock on his face. “Phil, you've been hiding an actual Prince of _a nation,”_ he hissed. “Let it sink in. You have no _idea_ how important he is. There are several rumours about white wings and special abilities. Some say that if you crush white feathers into a powder and eat it, it can even cure cancer. There are several absurd rumours like that. Dan is Queen Alexandra's son, and when she dies, Dan's wings are going to turn white. Everyone wants to capture Dan to find out if the rumours are true. Usually, it would be impossible because Dan stays in the Village, but he is missing! Everyone has a chance now.”

Anthony nodded sombrely, and Luke continued, “The Hunters. They know. I don't know how they know, but _they_ know. These things never stay hidden. I saw James on the second floor. He's a Hunter, and if he's here, it means they know.”

“Yeah. Stay away from James. He's an asshole,” PJ mumbled.

Luke arched an eyebrow at PJ. “If PJ is saying James is an asshole, he's most certainly an asshole.”

“Guys, are we going to open the door, or are we just going to stand here talking?” Anthony huffed in a small whisper.

“Let me do it,” PJ muttered, walking away immediately.

“Why are we whispering?” Phil asked loudly with a frown.

“Oh, right,” Luke straightened his back. “Sorry, it's fine. Just open the door. It's probably a delivery or something.”

“I didn't order anything.”

“Just open the damn door, Phil,” Anthony hissed.

“PJ just went to open it.”

Anthony frowned, and they waited in complete silence for several long minutes. There was a small thudding sound and then several pairs of footsteps echoed throughout the living room. Luke turned to Phil instantly. “What the–”

Phil blinked in utter confusion and stared in the direction of the noise with wide eyes. He was holding his breath in fear and waiting impatiently. His eyes narrowed, and he blinked when a familiar-looking man entered the room with two women accompanying him. Phil furrowed his eyebrows, and he heard Luke let out a gasp.

Anthony frowned. “Rayna?”


	40. Unexpected guests

Phil was stiff and silent as he hastily observed the four strangers standing in front of him. They were all wearing huge coats, gloves and sunglasses, and they looked a little . . . shady. There was a short man with brown hair and thin face staring right at him. An angry-looking woman stood akimbo next to him, and another woman stood cowering behind them, her gloved hands twined together shakily.

“I told you to wait,” PJ snapped, stomping back into the room. “Who the fuck–” He stopped himself, glancing at Luke and frowning confusedly.

Phil's gaze was lifeless and impassive as he stared at them wordlessly. He had been bombarded with so many startling revelations that day that he was no longer surprised by anything. If the new guests suddenly decided to shout that they were gods who had descended from heaven, he probably wouldn't question them. His mind was already suffused with several muddy thoughts, and he didn't have space for any more shocking proclamations.

Phil's friends were quiet behind him, and he didn't know what to do or what to say to anyone anymore. “Uh . . . who . . .” he muttered awkwardly.

The woman next to the man was someone who Phil had already met. He couldn't remember her name, but he knew she was a winged woman and Luke's acquaintance. He recalled meeting her on the other side of the wall a few days ago, and he had her gentle face and stern gaze memorised very clearly. His eyes lifted to glance at her back, but he couldn't see her wings. She was wearing an unusually large coat, but there wasn't an awkward bump or anything else there to indicate that she had wings. Phil frowned in confusion, staring at her oddly. “Er.”

She blinked and glanced at Phil, stepping forward and removing her sunglasses. She brushed her hair back gracefully. “Where is Dan?” she asked in a threatening voice, and Phil's heart sank.

“Rayna?” Luke and Anthony both said at the same time.

_Oh._ Phil swallowed nervously. _Rayna._

Rayna turned her head and recognition dawned on her face. She stared at Phil and then at Luke. “Oh. You guys are–” She frowned and turned back to the shaking woman behind her. “Amelia, are you sure he's here?”

The woman, Amelia, nodded. “Yes. I saw Dan with that tall human with black hair. Dan was with him.”

Rayna's eyes widened slightly. “You are . . .” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Phil, was it?”

Phil gulped, and his heart was pounding with anticipation. “Yes.” He glanced away immediately, his thoughts rushing wildly. He now knew why they were here, but he still didn't want to accept it. He _wouldn't_ accept it. It was just absurd. It was _unfair._ “What–” He clenched his jaw and collected his strength. “What are you doing here? What do you want?”

“Shit. Phil, they are Prince Daniel's friends.” Luke whispered cautiously, sidestepping Anthony to stand beside Phil. “Rayna, how did you–”

“We're here to talk about _Dan_ ,” Rayna said haughtily, arching an eyebrow. “Where is he? Is he here?”

The man next to her furrowed his eyebrows in bafflement. “Do you know them?”

Rayna nodded. “Yes.”

Phil pursed his lips and racked his brain for something to say. He tried to think carefully and plan his next action, but he couldn't even comprehend the bizarre situation. He clenched his jaw and glanced at Anthony who gave him a worried look. He swallowed, and he wasn't sure what to say. Rayna seemed to have noticed his hesitation. She frowned. “Is he here or not? I have a lot of questions, but first I'd like to see him.”

Luke sighed loudly. “I have no idea what is happening anymore.”

PJ stepped forward with a frown on his face. “Who are you? How do you know Dan is here?”

The man next to Rayna removed his sunglasses. “I'm Connor, and this is Rayna, my partner. It looks like you already know her.” He turned back. “She's Amelia.” He arched an eyebrow at PJ. “We are looking for someone called Dan Howell. We are his friends. Someone told us that Dan is here, and we're here to see him. Where is he?”

“You are winged men,” PJ speculated silently, glancing at their oddly huge coats dubiously.

Phil stared at the coat anxiously, and his hands were shaking. “Oh.”

“Yes.” Connor nodded. “We're not here to fight. Don't try to shout or scream. We're already prepared to deal with that, but we want to resolve this peacefully. We honestly don't want to harm anyone. We just want to see Dan. I don't know what you're planning to do by keeping him here, but it's not safe. He's important to us. If he is here, we want to take him back to the Village. Where is he?”

Phil's heart thumped painfully against his chest, and it felt like his worst fears had come true. His stomach dropped to the floor and a crushing sense of despair swept over him. He was fine with Dan not having any memories, and he would be fine with Dan being some kind of Prince eventually, but he couldn't imagine Dan not being beside him anymore. His fears and insecurities simmered to the surface and he blurted, “He's not here.”

Connor frowned. “Pardon?”

Luke, Anthony and PJ gaped at him with startled eyes, and Phil stared at the floor solemnly. His thoughts were jumbled, but somehow he was able to remember both Dan and Luke's words. Dan's safety was his top priority, and he pushed his emotions back down his throat. There was a reason Dan was living with him. There was a reason Dan was living in the cabin. Dan trusted his friend who had told him to stay in the cabin. Was it safe to trust some strangers who claimed to be Dan's friends in this situation? Was it a good idea to tell them about Dan? _No._ “Dan is–Dan is not here,” he choked out nervously.

Amelia stepped up. “He is lying. Dan is here. I remember the smell.”

Phil's throat constricted, and he looked up with a clenched jaw. “Dan is not here. Your sense of smell is probably shit. You can't meet someone who's not here. Please leave.”

Connor's eyes narrowed, and he looked annoyed. “Your odd reaction suggests that Dan _is_ here,” he retorted defiantly, “Who are you? I don't think we need _your_ permission to see our friend.”

Luke gave him a worried glance. “Phil, Dan is–”

Phil's chest was suddenly heavy, and he immediately interrupted, “T-the Dan I know . . . he's not a prince or anything. He's just a normal winged man. You can't–you can't _take_ him. He won't come with you,” he blurted unintentionally, feeling scared and conflicted. His hands clenched, and he stared at the floor shakily. “He is–” Was Dan really a prince? “He is not a prince.” If Dan was a prince, what would happen to their relationship? Dan couldn't be a prince. It was all so sudden that he was finding it hard to believe. He was just abruptly swamped with new information, one after another, on a completely normal afternoon. How was he supposed to respond? Phil was just an ordinary guy who wanted to lead an ordinary life. This was not what he had expected, and he didn't know who to trust. “P-please leave.”

There was a small moment of tense silence where no one spoke. Phil heard PJ huff next to him. He fell back to the sofa and remained quiet, glancing at Phil strangely. Anthony was staring back and forth between them with a nervous look on his face. Luke was the only one who stepped forward and tried to diffuse the sudden tension in the room. He placed his hand on Phil's shoulder and sighed softly. “Phil, they are his friends, and you can–”

“Dan is not here!” Phil snapped shakily, gritting his teeth and swallowing the lump in his throat. “Who are they? I don't trust them. I don't know them. This is my home, and I can't–” His hands trembled, and he knew he was shaking. His feelings were torn, and he swallowed anxiously. “I don't know anyone called Dan, alright? I don't know any winged men.”

“We know Dan is here,” Connor noted with a frown, “Or at least a winged man with the same name is here. He may not be the Dan we're looking for, but we want to see–”

“Well, Dan doesn't have any friends. He doesn't want to see you. He is not a Pri–”

“Who are you to decide that?” Connor argued, “Who even are you? Why is Dan staying with you? Do you know who he is? You have no right to talk like you _know_ Dan. I don't know why he is staying with a prick like you, but–”

“Connor,” Rayna warned, “Shut up.”

Connor snapped his jaw shut, and Rayna huffed, narrowing his eyes at Phil. “We won't leave without seeing him,” she told him, “I can see that you care for him, but you can't make choices for him. We want to see Dan. Where is he?” she repeated sharply.

Luke squeezed Phil's shoulder. “Phil, they are probably here to take Prince–er, Dan back to the castle. They are having a hard time–”

Phil's stomach sank instantly. “N-no . . . Dan is staying with me,” he responded, inhaling shakily. “He told me he can't go back–”

“Dan doesn't belong here.” Rayna frowned in agitation. “He has a family. He has a home. He can't stay here. We'll see him, and we'll take him back with us.” She sighed heavily. “Just let us see him. Where is he? If he really is not the same Dan, we–”

Phil swallowed. “L-look, this is Dan's home. I told you, you're wrong. Dan is not a prince. That's a different Dan. Maybe they just look alike. I don't know!”

Connor glared at him, looking appalled. “Who the fuck do you think you–”

“Yes, that is possible,” Rayna said smoothly, holding up a hand to silence Connor. “But we won't _know_ that until we _see_ him. Where is he? Where is the winged man? Let us just _see_ him. Why are you being so stubborn about it if he is not the same Dan?”

Phil's throat squeezed, and his chest ached. He could feel himself getting more and more frustrated. What else was he supposed to do? He didn't know. Was it safe to let them see Dan? He was conflicted. “H-he's not here,” he repeated firmly. He knew he was reacting in the worst way possible, but everything he thought he knew about Dan was just revealed to be false, and his emotions and thoughts were messy and all over the place. He felt like he couldn't breathe.

Rayna pursed her lips solemnly. “Look, I'm trying to resolve this in a civil way. Don't make me–”

Anthony glanced at Phil worriedly. “Phil, you're escalating this situation. Let them see Dan. They don't look like they're lying,” he muttered, “Dan really is a prince. I know Rayna and Connor. They have no reason to lie. They are his friends. It actually makes sense if you think about–”

“Shut up, Anthony. Dan is not here,” Phil bellowed angrily.

PJ let out a long sigh and spoke up, “Phil, you're acting like a child. Luke and Anthony both know them. If they are Dan's friends, they have a right to see him.”

Phil's hands clenched into fists, and he knew he was acting like a petulant child. Everything was happening so suddenly, and he was panicking. “I don't care,” he spat, “Dan is not here. I don't know what you're talking about.”

Connor scoffed and glared at him. “This is ridiculous. I'm warning you, I will–”

“Phil?”

Phil stopped abruptly, his heart ramming against his chest. He turned slowly and saw Dan standing near the corner with a concerned frown on his face. Everyone in the room stilled and turned. The strangers in front of him gasped in shock and sighed in relief at the same time.

Phil swallowed painfully. “Dan, no, don't come–”

“Amelia?” Dan whispered in surprise.

Amelia stepped forward and removed her sunglasses. “Yes. It's me,” she said with a relieved smile, turning to the others near her. “I wasn't lying,” she murmured in a proud voice.

Phil blinked. “Do you know her?”

Dan nodded. “She is the friend I was talking about.”

Phil swallowed shakily and relief swept over him. “Oh.”

Connor stared at Dan with shock on his face. His eyes were wide and his mouth fell open. He staggered forward with a hopeful expression on his face. “Dan,” he breathed, and there was immense relief in his tone, “It's really you.” He let out a breathless, almost tearful laugh. “Oh my god, it's really Dan.”

“Thank god,” Rayna sighed with a relieved smile. “We finally found you.” She shuffled towards him, and Anthony quietly moved out of her way without protest. “Dan,” she whispered tearfully, biting her lip to control herself.

Phil hid his clenched fists behind his back, staring pointedly at the floor. His throat closed up, and his chest was heavy. It finally hit him. Dan was a prince, and they were really Dan's friends. This was a side of Dan he didn't know about. These people probably knew Dan more than him, and it irritated him. There was a huge huge chunk of Dan's life that Phil didn't know about. Phil probably didn't know _anything_ about Dan. Did he even _know_ the real Dan? Did the Dan he knew really exist, or would he be replaced by a different Dan if Dan regained his memories? These people knew the _real_ Dan. They knew everything about Dan, and he suddenly felt extremely jealous of them.

“Who are you?” Dan asked suddenly.

Phil's eyes widened in surprise, and he looked up to see Dan frowning confusedly at Rayna. Rayna stilled in shock, and Dan walked away from her, shuffling closer to Phil and hiding behind him. “What's going on?” he mumbled, grabbing Phil's T-shirt.

Dan's touch immediately calmed him. The suffocating feeling in his chest disappeared immediately, and Phil felt refreshed and level-headed. He looked around the room and observed Rayna and Connor's bewildered expressions closely. They stared at Dan and turned to Amelia, giving her a disheartened look. “He doesn't remember anything, does he?” Connor asked quietly.

“No.” Amelia shook her head. “He doesn't.”

Dan furrowed his eyebrows and clung to Phil. “Who are these people?”

Luke sauntered closer to him discreetly. “Er, you should probably hide your mark, Phil,” Luke suggested in a quiet voice, “I don't know what is happening, but they don't know you're bonded, do they?”

PJ threw his hands up and sighed. “I'm not getting involved in this.” He stood up and walked towards the wall, standing in a corner with his arms folded on his chest. “I'll stay to make sure they don't hurt you, but keep me out of this. I know nothing. I'm just–I'm just a painting on the wall. Ignore me.”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “You're unbelievable,” he muttered and turned to Phil, glancing at the winged men who were conversing in whispers in front of them. “Phil, stop being childish. Luke was right. Dan is the prince they're looking for. Don't try to fight them. You can't win against winged people. They have superhuman strength. You know that.”

“I can't just hand over Dan that easily–”

“Dan is not an object!” Anthony hissed, “You can't stop him if he wants to go. They are his _friends!_ ”

“I don't want to go anywhere.” Dan frowned, clinging to Phil. He wrapped his arms around Phil's waist and rested his head against Phil's shoulder. “I'm going to stay with Phil.”

Anthony rolled his eyes and sighed. “Dan, you're saying that because you don't remember–”

“No!” Phil blurted, his hands balling into fists. He swallowed and whispered, “No, that's not it. He–he will stay with me. His memories don't matter. He's the same Dan no matter what.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Anthony.

Anthony stared at him quietly for several seconds and turned away. “Okay.”

“Wait,” Rayna muttered with wide, startled eyes. Connor looked away from Amelia, glancing at Phil with a frown. “Why is Dan–” She turned to Connor. “Connor, why is Dan hugging a human?” Rayna looked back and forth between them with shocked eyes. Her gaze dropped to Phil's neck and stayed there. “Oh.” She staggered back and gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god.”

Connor blinked, and his expression was doubtful and disbelieving. “No. No, Dan, you didn't.”

Rayna covered her face with her hands and inhaled shakily. “You–you got bonded to . . . to a _human_?”

“To this prick?” Connor added with a clenched jaw.

“Why . . . Dan, why did you get bonded?” Amelia asked tearfully, “Why would you get bonded to someone you can't be with? I told you to stay in the cabin. Why did you leave? Why don't you ever listen to me?”

“No, this has to be a mistake,” Connor blurted, striding towards Dan. “Dan, you didn't bond with a human, did you? It has to be a mistake. I bet the bond hasn't even formed yet.”

Rayna glanced at Phil's neck. “Connor–”

“Dan, let's go back to the Village,” Connor pleaded with a frown, “He's a human. He's different from us. You don't know him. You can't get bonded to someone you don't know. You can't trust him. We should–”

Dan frowned and glared at him, wrapping his arms around Phil. “Shut up. Who are you? I love Phil.”

“No, you don't,” Connor retorted, “You've known him for like two months. I've been with you your whole life. The Dan I know would never do something this impulsive!”

Phil frowned. “It's not two months–”

“I don't care.” Dan glared at Connor. “I love him. Go away. You're a nuisance.” He furrowed his eyebrows and glanced at Luke. “I don't like that guy either.” He hid behind Phil and frowned. “Phil, tell them to leave. I hate them.”

Connor's eyes widened in shock. His mouth opened and closed, and he looked baffled. He stared at Dan for several seconds and turned to Phil with a glare. “What are you doing to him?”

Phil frowned in annoyance. “I'm just standing here. I'm not doing anything.”

“Yes, you are!”

Phil scowled. “No, I'm not. What the hell.”

Connor narrowed his eyes with a glare. “Why is Dan staying with you in the first place? It's suspicious. Dan is a _Prince._ He would never stay in a–” He crinkled his nose. “–dingy place like this. He would never wear such awful-looking clothes. Are those _your_ clothes? He looks like a beggar! How did you earn his trust so easily? How? What did you do to him? Why would you bond with him? You definitely did–”

“Connor, that's enough,” Rayna warned, placing a hand on his shoulder. Connor stilled immediately, and his shoulders relaxed. He suddenly looked relieved and calm. “I know you're a little shocked that Dan is acting differently towards us, but it's not his fault. Dan doesn't remember you. To him, we're random people who are trying to take him away from someone he–” She hesitated. “–loves.”

“No, Dan does not _love_ this guy,” Connor muttered under his breath.

Rayna sighed deeply. “Connor.”

Connor took a deep breath. “Sorry, okay? I'm sorry,” he mumbled, “I'm just a little stressed. I'm sorry.” He was a silent for a fleeting moment, and then he glanced at Dan again. “Dan, let's go back to the castle,” he repeated, “Come with us. You don't remember us, but we are–”

Dan frowned. “No”

“Dan, we are your friends. We know you more than anyone. We can–”

“No. I hate you.”

Connor pursed his lips and glanced at Phil. “Okay, can you stop clinging to that guy? Maybe he is doing some–”

Phil glared at Connor. “I'm not doing any–”

“This is so childish.” Rayna rubbed her forehead and sighed.

“I agree.”

Phil blinked and turned back to see PJ stepping away from the wall. He walked towards Phil and stood in front of Rayna, folding his arms across his chest. “Look, why don't we sit and talk like civilized people?” he asked with a frown, “This conversation is leading nowhere.” He gestured to the sofa. “There is actually no reason to argue. I don't think anyone here cares that you are winged people. Besides, you already know Luke and Anthony.” He arched an eyebrow. “We want to know more about Dan, and you want to know why Dan is staying here. We won't be able to solve anything like this,” he huffed. “Dan trusts Phil, but he doesn't trust you. You won't be able to do anything if Dan doesn't listen to you, and Dan will only listen to you if you talk to Phil.”

Rayna's eyes narrowed pensively, and PJ glanced at Phil and Connor questioningly. “Let's just get along for now. Can we do that?”

Rayna sighed with relief. “Thank you. Yes, we can.” She stared at a grumpy-looking Connor and added, “Please.”

Phil frowned. “No, I don't trust them. Dan wants them to leave. Why–”

“We're not going to leave. We're his friends!” Connor snapped.

“Can I say something?” Luke held his hand up timidly, and all eyes turned to him. He bit his lip and turned to Phil. “Phil, you can trust them. They are Dan's friends. I've seen Dan. I've never talked to him, but I can confirm. They really are Prince Daniel's friends.” He turned back to Rayna. “Look, you've known me for two years. You know Anthony. PJ and Anthony are Hunters, and they knew Dan was living here, but they didn't say anything to anyone. Dan is clearly unharmed. You can trust us. Phil didn't do anything to Dan. In fact, I believe he helped Dan . . .”

Rayna nodded. “Connor, I know Luke. He's my friend. He's telling us that we can trust these people. Let's just try talking to them, alright?”

PJ nodded. “Look, we didn't even know Dan was a Prince.” He gestured to Phil. “He found Dan outside at night. Dan was injured, and Phil helped Dan without knowing anything about him.”

Rayna blinked. “Is that true, Dan?”

Dan frowned at her but nodded. “Yes.” He hugged Phil. “I love Phil. I don't like how you are treating him.”

There was silence for several long minutes, and Rayna finally sighed. “I'm sorry, Dan.” She turned back to PJ. “Alright. I will tell you everything.” she whispered in a tired voice, “You're right. Dan doesn't look like he trusts us, but he trusts you. Maybe you can convince him to come with us.”

Phil opened his mouth to object, but he snapped his jaw shut when PJ shot him a warning look. PJ turned to Rayna with a soft smile. “Okay.” He gestured to the sofa. “Well, then . . .”

Phil sighed heavily and looked back at Dan who was unusually silent. “Dan,” he mumbled softly. “Are you alright with this?”

Dan bit his lip and nodded. “I trust Amelia, and–and I want to know more about myself.”

Phil blinked in surprise and squeezed his hand tightly. “Okay.” He didn't want Dan to go with them, but he was interested in hearing his story. He swallowed and forced himself to make a decision. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asked in a quiet voice, watching everyone. They had already settled comfortably on the sofa.

“Tea, please,” Connor mumbled reluctantly.

Phil nodded and grabbed Dan's hand, pulling him towards the kitchen. Dan followed him wordlessly, but Phil could tell he was worried. He squeezed Dan's hand. “It's okay, Dan. I'm fine.”

Dan nodded and squeezed back. “I'm not going with them, Phil.”

Phil smiled, but his chest was heavy. “Yeah,” he murmured softly, “I know.”

~*~

The next few hours went by so fast that it felt like time itself had sped up. Phil remained silent and speechless as he listened to Rayna and watched Amelia recite all the different events that had led to this very moment. Unfortunately, Connor was sitting directly in front of Phil and Dan, and Phil could feel his glare burning through the side of his head. Phil didn't talk much. It was PJ and Anthony who explained everything from the start to finish. Similarly, Connor sat sullenly next to Rayna, and it was Amelia and Rayna who unravelled all the mysteries surrounding Dan one by one.

“So,” PJ frowned, and Phil snapped out of his thoughts sombrely. “Someone tried to assassinate Dan, and Amelia–” He pointed absently with his forefinger. “–helped Dan, but no one knew about it until now.”

“Yes.” Amelia nodded courtly. “I told him to stay near the cabin, but I don't know why he decided to leave. His injuries weren't healing at all, and he was weak. He should've stayed there. I'm not sure why he decided to leave all of a sudden.” Amelia glanced at Dan questioningly, and Dan shrank back in shame, his arms squeezing Phil's waist as he hid his face on Phil's shoulder. “Dan, did you leave because of Oscar and Tony?”

“Are those the guys that attacked Dan?” Anthony asked dubiously.

Amelia nodded. “Yes, they're both probably working for whoever is trying to hurt Dan.”

PJ arched an eyebrow in scepticism. “They know Dan is alive. Why aren't they trying to kill Dan? Why did they stop?”

Amelia bit her bottom lip and intertwined her fingers on her thighs. “I tried to become friends with them to find out, but they are strange. Both of them have extreme hatred towards humans. They hate Dan and our King and everyone who likes humans,” she whispered wistfully.

Rayna nodded knowingly. “Yes. There are some winged people in the Village who are upset about King Dominic's actions.” She crossed her legs with a huff. “Winged men are usually very proud people. Some even have a severe superiority complex. They hate showing their weaknesses or backing away from fights. They are not satisfied with peace, and they say that King Dominic and Dan are accumulating donated blood by begging humans, who they consider to be weak and inferior.”

Amelia nodded and continued, “This is just my speculation, but I think Tony and Oscar already got paid by the person who wanted Dan dead. I know them. They are not the type to be loyal. They don't care. They already got the money. They know Dan doesn't remember anything so they were just happily tormenting him every day.” Her eyes got teary. “Dan probably left the cabin because they were hurting him. He was already weak because he wasn't drinking blood, and I couldn't even bring food regularly. He probably got sick of waiting for me.” She sniffed. “I'm sorry, Dan. I was trying to talk to someone at the castle but–”

Dan shook his head suddenly. “No,” he murmured, moving away and staring at the floor. “I wasn't that hungry. I didn't mind. I–I just–I was just really confused. I didn't leave because of Tony and Oscar. I just–I hated being a winged man, and I–I just wanted to disappear. I hated drinking blood–”

“Dan,” Phil whispered gently.

Dan stopped immediately, biting his lip silently. He hugged Phil and hid his face behind Phil's shoulder. “But I don't care about that anymore.” He squeezed Phil tightly. “I'm fine now.” He shrugged. “I only drink a little blood, and it doesn't hurt Phil at all.”

Connor stared at Dan in awe, and Phil couldn't help but notice the surprise on his face. He turned away wordlessly.

“How did Dan lose his memories? How is it possible for three people to lose their memories together?” PJ asked confusedly, “Something is wrong. It's not a coincidence.”

Rayna nodded. “We're still trying to figure it out. We haven't found anything yet,” she divulged sadly. “At first, it was just King Dominic and Dan, but then Queen Alexandra got sick as well.” She sighed. “It's strange.”

Connor agreed, “Yes, and that's exactly why I think Dan should come with us to the castle. We have very capable doctors in the Village. I'm sure they will be able to find some cure.”

Phil's pulse jumped instantly. “No,” he snapped, “Dan is staying with me.”

Dan nodded. “I'm staying with Phil.”

Connor rolled his eyes with an annoyed look on his face. “No, you can't stay with him. This is not safe. You can't live among humans. What if Hunters find out about this? Come back to the castle, Dan!”

“Dan doesn't want to,” Phil interjected. “He wants to stay with me. Why can't you–”

“How can we trust you? Who knows what you're thinking? You just bonded with a sick person!” Connor shouted, “You took advantage of him when he was vulnerable–”

“What the hell? I didn't _know_ about his lost memories! I didn't take advantage of him. I love–”

“Excuses!” Connor hissed. “Dan can't stay here. It's not safe. Everyone here knows that, but I guess your peanut-sized brain can't comprehend–”

“Oh, it's not safe? Do you think the castle or whatever is safe? How am _I_ supposed to trust you? How do I know you're not the one trying to assassinate Dan?” Phil shouted, glaring at Connor as he sizzled with rage. “Dan is staying with _me_ ,” he emphasised with a glare. “If you cared about Dan, you wouldn't take him back to a place where someone is trying to kill him! Are you insane?”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Connor shouted, standing up with anger. “You have no right to talk to me like this. Of course, I won't take him directly to the castle, but Dan has to come back to the Village. Dan is our Prince. The Village is his home! If _you_ cared about Dan, you wouldn't try to force him to stay with you!”

Phil clenched his jaw and rose to his feet. He saw PJ standing up from the cornor of his eye, but he couldn't bring himself to care. “I'm not forcing him! He _wants_ to stay with me. You're the one that's forcing him to–”

“Yes, because he doesn't remember!” Connor yelled, looking enraged. “He doesn't remember his own fucking family, and I'm trying to change that. You're just scared that once Dan regains his memories, he wouldn't want you anymor–”

Phil's heart thumped with pain, and he launched forward, grabbing the collar of Connor's coat in anger. “What the fuck did you just–”

PJ slipped between them gracefully, pushing Phil back to the sofa. “That's enough,” he muttered and yawned tiredly, “I'm not your babysitter, Phil. You're an adult so act like it.”

Phil stared at PJ for several seconds and swallowed, staring at his empty hands with a clenched jaw. “Sorry,” he muttered indifferently.

“Stop pulling me, Rayna!” Connor shouted, “Let me show him who I really–”

“Stop acting like a child, Connor. It's embarrassing,” Rayna chastised, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Just sit down and drink your tea.”

Connor took a deep breath and huffed. “Fine,” he muttered irritably, “But we're taking Dan back with us.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Dan declared suddenly, standing up from his seat. “I'm staying with Phil.”

Amelia sighed heavily. “Dan–”

“No, Dan's right. Let him stay with Phil,” Rayna said suddenly, surprising everyone. She glanced at Phil, and he didn't know what kind of expression he should make. Why was she taking his side?

Luke nodded. “I don't think you should force Dan away from Phil right now.”

Connor stared at Rayna in shock. “Rayna, what did you just–”

“Look at his mark, Connor,” Rayna sighed with exhaustion, “It's fairly new. It's a newly formed bond. We can't take Dan back with us. He will probably cry and scream and pass out. We can't deal with that right now. It will be a little cruel to separate them.”

Connor clenched his teeth. “Dan is most certainly not bonded to this–this prick! It has to be a mistake. We have to help him get his memories back so he can–”

“Yes, he is,” Rayna sighed, “Look, what's done is done. He is Dan's partner whether you accept it or not.”

Connor frowned. “But it's not safe!” he argued, “Dan can't stay here–”

“Yes, he can't,” PJ agreed, folding his arms across his chest. Connor stopped to stare at him oddly.

Phil's jaw dropped. “PJ, what are you–”

“What?” PJ turned to glare at Phil, and he looked angry. “Are you high? Dan can't stay here. You almost got caught once. It's not safe. What kind of dream world are you living in?”

Phil's fingers curled, and he pursed his lips shamefully. “Oh.”

Rayna nodded approvingly. “I have an idea,” she suggested carefully, “Dan has to see a doctor right now. It's very important. We can decide what to do about, uh, your bond later. He has to see a doctor first, but he won't come with us.” She sighed softly. “I think both of you should come with us. Both Dan and Phil. Both of you can live together until we sort everything out.” She intertwined her hands eagerly. “What do you think? I think it will work. Both of you can stay together, and Dan can meet the doctors. Phil can stay in the Village for a few days until the doctors help Dan somehow regain his memories. Leave all the arrangements to me. I will–”

“How do we know it's safe?” PJ asked sharply with a frown. “I can't come to the Village. How do I know Phil is safe? I'm really sorry, but we just met. I don't know you.” He arched an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to trust you?”

Rayna glanced at Luke. “Luke and Anthony have been to the Village. They've seen the Organization. They know me. You can ask him,” she explained, “Luke is someone that all of us can trust.”

PJ nodded. “I agree, but–”

“I know it's hard to trust someone you just met, but I promise that it's safe. Luke can come with us. He can text you if something goes wrong. Phil just has to stay until Dan remembers everything. The Dan right now . . . um, is a little different from the Dan I know. The Dan I know is very reliable, and I'm sure he will figure something out.” She took a deep breath. “But for that to happen, he needs a doctor. It takes at least a month for the bond to settle. Newly bonded couples are extremely clingy, and I understand that. Dan will only come with us if Phil does too.”

Luke leaned forward. “You can trust Rayna. I've known her for a while. She's not a bad person.”

Rayna nodded. “It's just for a few days. You can come back here anytime.”

Anthony looked thoughtful. “I think it's best if Phil stays away for a while. I noticed James too. I think this is a good idea.” He glanced at Phil hesitantly. “Phil, Dan is not safe here. I think–”

Phil swallowed the lump in his throat. “I know,” he mumbled, “You don't have to tell me. I know.” He grasped Dan's hand tightly. “I–I want some time to think about it.”

Rayna sighed in relief. “Oh–okay,” she said with a nod. “Please think about it. We will come again tomorrow.”

“Phil, don't take too long to decide,” Anthony warned.

Phil nodded. “I know.”

Connor looked doubtful. “I think we should take Dan with us right now. I don't care. I don't think leaving him here is a good idea. It's risky.”

“Dan has lived here for several months. Nothing happened,” Phil clarified, “You can wait until tomorrow. Dan will be fine. I'm with him.”

“That's the problem,” Connor muttered under his breath.

Phil frowned. “What did you just–”

PJ shook his head with a long sigh. “Godammit, Phil. Why did you have to get bonded to a fucking Prince?” he complained. “Why did you have to do it _right now_? You never think before doing something. Everything is so complicated. You should've waited.”

“I have to agree,” Anthony said reluctantly. “Why would you even get bonded in the first place?” There was a hint of sadness in his voice. “It was a stupid decision. Why would you get bonded to a winged man? You know you can't be with him. You can't live with humans. You can't live with winged men either. You're completely stuck with nowhere to go. What made you think this was a good idea?”

“I don't care,” Phil whispered in a vulnerable voice. “It doesn't matter. If I can't live with humans or winged men, I will buy a tent and go live in the mountains or something. I have made my decision. I didn't get bonded to Dan on a whim. I thought long and hard about this. I won't hesitate anymore. I'm going to stay with Dan no matter what. You can hate me all you want. I don't give a fuck.”

There was a strained silence for several seconds, and he could feel everyone's eyes on him. Dan squeezed him arm tightly. Phil could tell he was happy, and that was all he wanted. He smiled at Dan and looked up to see Connor staring at him wordlessly. Phil didn't avoid his gaze this time, and it was Connor who averted his eyes. He scratched his head irritably and let out a long sigh. “Rayna,” Connor muttered, and his voice was strangely devoid of anger. “We should go.” He stood up with a clenched jaw. “But call Lydia.”

Rayna blinked. “Ah, yes.” She bit her lip and glanced at Dan. “You will be okay, right?” Dan nodded politely, and she smiled. “I will go back to the Village and look for a place for them to stay,” she told Luke. “I just have one request.”

PJ raised an eyebrow curiously. “Yes?”

“Can Lydia stay here?” she asked hesitantly, “I won't be able to sleep knowing Dan is here alone. I know he has Phil, but–but Dan is–he has always been like an older brother to me, and I can't just leave him here. I won't be able to sleep at night.” She bit her bottom lip and looked at Phil hopefully. “Lydia is our friend. She won't disturb you at all. We don't want to force Dan to come with us, but Lydia can stay. If something happens, she will be able to protect him. Please let her stay here until you make your decision.”

Phil stared at her genuine eyes, and he felt guilty. “Okay,” he agreed quietly, “That's fine.”

Rayna smiled gratefully. “Thank you. I'll go back and send Lydia. She will be here in a few hours. If you need anything, you can tell Luke and he will tell me.” She stood up and adjusted her large coat. “We will come back tomorrow. Please keep Dan safe until then.”

Phil nodded and grasped Dan's hand tightly. “I understand.”

~*~

“They're finally gone,” Dan inhaled deeply and tackled Phil to the sofa, wrapping his arms around Phil and smiling down at him. “I like it when it's just the two of us.”

Phil placed a kiss on Dan's lips and smiled. “I love you.”

Dan grinned and placed his head on Phil's chest, lying down quietly. Phil stared up at the ceiling for several seconds, his arm hugging Dan loosely. He liked the quiet atmosphere, and he felt better due to it. It had been a long day, and he was tired of dealing with people. He was grateful for the silence. “Your friend–Connor. I thought he was a little annoying, and I was rude to him. I'm sorry, Dan,” he whispered, “I–I know he's not a bad guy, I was just overwhelmed. I promise I will try to get along with him.”

Dan shrugged. “I don't really remember him so it's fine.”

Phil's chest throbbed, and he remained silent for a long time. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on Dan's warmth. “It feels nice,” he mumbled, moving his fingers through Dan's hair.

Dan placed his chin on Phil's chest and smiled, opening his mouth to say something. Phil didn't get to know what he was about to say because of the loud noise of the doorbell. Dan closed his mouth and pouted. “I wanted to be alone with you,” he complained, moving away. “Who is it now?”

Phil chuckled and sat up, glancing at the table. “It's Luke.” He grabbed Luke's phone and held it up. “He forgot his phone.” He stood up with a smile. “I'll be right back.”

Dan pouted and reluctantly let go of his hand. “Okay.”

Phil turned away silently and headed to the front door. His mind was full of numerous different thoughts as he walked to the door. Nothing really bothered him when he was with Dan. It was easy to get lost in that feeling of bliss and forget about most problems, but all he was doing was shoving all of his worries to the back of his mind. In reality, he was concerned about a lot of things. He was overwhelmed due to all the sudden revelations. He was terrified about their future. He was stressed about Dan's memories. He was being suffocated by all these different emotions and messy thoughts, and the only thing keeping him sane was the fact that Dan was still with him.

Phil tried to clear his mind and opened the door with a small sigh. “Luke, you–”

“Hello.”

Phil's brain, which had been full of tangled thoughts, suddenly became empty, so empty that it felt like voices were echoing in his ears. His mind went completely blank like a pure whiteboard. There was nothing there, absolutely nothing. A part of him knew he should do something, say something. In fact, he had had dreams about these kinds of scenarios, and he always thought he would take action immediately and fight valiantly, but none of that happened. He couldn't move an inch from his spot for several stilted seconds. All he did was stare straight ahead as loud noises of footsteps pierced his ears. He opened and closed his mouth, and his vision went blurry. His mouth was dry, and he didn't know what to do.

Suddenly, the phone in his hand slipped and dropped to the floor with a loud thud, and it snapped him back to reality. His eyes widened in shock, and his mouth opened in a silent gasp. He stumbled back and turned. His lips finally moved, and he screamed, “Dan!” He tripped over his own feet and tumbled to the floor. “Run!”


	41. Don't hurt him

_“Run!_ ”

Phil's breaths came out in loud, ragged pants as he lay on the floor. His hands trembled as he tried to scramble to his feet, gaping back at the dozens and dozens of Hunters that were standing on his doorstep. The peaceful, content silence around him had abruptly vanished into thin air. Suddenly, his ears filled with loud, resounding noises of several stomping boots on the floor. The thuds and thumps of footsteps, the hasty chatter, the clicking noises of guns and even the small noises of their equipment echoed in Phil's mind.

“What . . . what are you doing? W-why?” he murmured with wide eyes, unable to comprehend it. He couldn't believe what was happening. He couldn't believe it was real, that the Hunters were _here,_ in his _home_. _So_ many of them. His mind rushed through a dozen different possibilities, hopping from one thing to another. They were here for Dan. Were they here for Dan? No, they weren't here for Dan. They were here for something else. They were here to talk. They were here to investigate. _Why_ were they here? He panicked, and he tried to gather his courage, but he was still waiting for someone to shake him awake from this dream. It had to be a dream. He was probably sleeping. His vision was blurry, but reality couldn't be this blurry. It just had to be a dream.

Everything happened abruptly and chaotically. Time was probably flowing in a normal way, but in his mind, everything happened both way too quickly and in slow motion. Several pairs of footsteps rushed by him, and his unfocused, wide eyes jumped from one thing to another, staring wildly, his heart thudding against his chest and panic flooding his mind with terrible, _terrible_ thoughts. “N-no . . . wait, no–” he stammered, scrambling to his feet as he desperately tried to stop the Hunters from barging into his home. They looked tall and buff, and they ignored him completely, pouring into the room one by one. “W-wait, you can't just enter my home without–”

“Daniel Howell is somewhere inside!” someone commanded, and Phil's gaze landed swiftly on Theodora. “Find him!”

His eyes widened in panic, and he turned, his hands wildly gripping the uniforms of the Hunters near him. “No, w-wait. Stop. This is my home. How dare you–” Someone grabbed his shoulders, and he stared at the two men who had stopped him. His heart pounded in his chest, and he swallowed the painful lump in his throat. “What–wait–let me go.” He swallowed shakily. “W-what the fuck? You have no right to do this. This is my home. What is–you can't just–”

“Shut up,” Theodora threatened with a glare. “We know he is here. Where are you hiding him, Phil Lester?”

“W-what are you talking about?” Phil's breaths quickened, and his throat tightened. He regretted yelling Dan's name, but he was still in a misty state of disbelief. His mind was all messy. “L-let me go. I'm not h-hiding anyone. I–I don't know anything.” There were so many Hunters in his home, everywhere, surrounding him, searching for Dan. His mind began to spin, and his frightened eyes jumped from their guns to their stern faces and widened even more. The Hunters who were holding him pulled him back, and he struggled to get away. “I–I live alone. I'm not–I just panicked when I saw you–I live alone. I d-don't know anything. I don't–”

Theodora glared down at him, and her gaze slipped down to his neck. Phil's breath hitched in his throat, and his heart dropped. He waited for the enraged outburst with terror choking his throat, but Theodora didn't comment on it. She averted her eyes in disinterest, and Phil's knees shook with relief. Before turning away, she lifted her slender hand and swiftly pulled his shirt over the mark, looking away immediately. “Yes, you do,” she remarked absently, “Dan is here.”

“Please. I swear I don't–”

“Hold him there,” Theodora ordered, “Don't let him interrupt us.”

Phil's eyes widened, and he pulled his hands desperately. “Let me go. Let me go, please. I l-live alone, and I don't know any–”

“Phil?”

Usually, the sound of Dan's voice calmed Phil and soothed his worries, but at that moment, it sent a wave of despair rolling throughout his body. The people around him let out startled gasps. Someone screamed in fear, and loud whispers filled the room. Suddenly, they were shouting commands and cocking their guns and Phil's ears rang with the noise. His chest plummeted to the floor instantly, but his mind was still in a daze, almost like he was floating and he had no control over his body. He stared at Dan with wide, panicked eyes, and Dan stared back with terror on his face. _Fuckfuckfuckfuck_ _–_

“P-phil, what . . . ” Dan stared worriedly.

“Don't let down your guard!” Theodora said in a loud voice, “We have no idea how he's going to react.”

Phil's heart plummeted to the floor. His vision went blurry when he stared at the number of guns pointed at Dan. His knees wobbled, and the gravity of the situation finally hit him all at once. _What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?_ _There had to be something!_

Dan glanced at the Hunters holding Phil, and his wings shot out from both sides immediately, filling up the room. His eyes turned bright red, and he glared in anger. “Let him go,” he warned in a threatening voice.

Phil's hands were shaking, and he hadn't even realised until then that he was panting loudly. “No . . . no, Dan. Don't come here–Don't–” His voice was shaky and panicked. “W-window . . . Dan, the window. Leave–”

“Don't move,” someone shouted, “Lower your wings. Lower it immediately.”

Loud thuds of several pairs of footsteps echoed in Phil's mind, and he couldn't see what was happening. His chest ached, and he tried to get away from the Hunters holding. “P-please. Dan, listen to m-me. The w-window–leave through–ugh!”

Hunters hauled him back, and he kicked and wrestled, struggling to get away. “Dan,” he shouted, not caring about the Hunters around him. “Dan, use the window!” he screamed desperately, elbowing the man to his right side. “Let go of me! Leave, Dan!” He panted, shoving the Hunters next to him against the wall and running towards Dan. “Use the window and leave! Leave! Go!”

“Don't let him leave,” Theodora said calmly, looking unfazed, “Use the pen if you have to.”

Someone grabbed Phil's T-shirt, and another Hunter blocked his path. “Get the fuck out of my way, you fucking–” He shoved the man back, and he felt someone grabbing his waist and dragging him back. “Let go–”

“Phil,” Dan called worriedly, his eyes staring wildly at the Hunters surrounding him.

Phil screamed. “Let go of me! Fuck you! Let go of me, you fucking bastard. How dare you–” A loud flutter of wings cut him off. He stilled for a second, and a chorus of outraged gasps erupted from all around him. People stumbled and collided against each other, and several people were talking all at the same time.

“I said lower your wings! Lower it _right. now_!”

“Use the pen, Ethan. Use the pen!”

“Don't touch his wings–”

“How dare you threaten us? You're nothing but a–”

“Use the pen, godammit!”

“Lower your fucking wings, or we will shoot.”

Phil struggled desperately. “Dan, listen to me. Leave!” he choked out. His mind was crowded with his deepest fears and horrible thoughts. His vision was fuzzy, and his breaths came out in harsh pants. “Leave through the window, Dan! Leave! Forget about me and leave!”

There was a small clicking noise next to his ear, and his gaze landed on a gun. “Stay quiet,” Theodora muttered in a warning voice, “We have Hunters guarding every single window of this building. It's impossible to leave.”

Phil's head snapped up to stare at the entrance to the hallway. He watched as several Hunters poured into the room through the hallway, his jaw falling open in shock and terror. “No . . . no–” he shook his head with wide eyes. “No, that can't–the window–”

“Did you think we would barge in here without taking any precautions?” she asked haughtily, “We humans don't have wings, but we are smart enough to use a ladder.”

Phil's throat felt choked. Realisation dawned on him immediately. He should've known. He should've realised. The whole apartment had been oddly silent. It was because of the Hunters. They planned this. They had thought about it and strategically planned this whole confrontation. While Phil was cuddling with Dan on the sofa, the Hunters were slowly, sneakily climbing the stairs and waiting outside the door. Waiting. Waiting for the perfect time and opportunity to barge into his home. They had it all planned out beforehand, and they were here to perfectly execute that plan.

“Lower your wings,” Theodora told Dan, grabbing Phil's hair and twisting it in her hands. She pulled him to the centre while someone held Phil's hands behind him. “Stay still.”

Dan stared at Phil helplessly. “P-phil . . .” He bit his bottom lip and lowered his wings. His eyes returned to normal, and he stared at Phil worriedly. “Don't hurt Phil.”

“Leave, Dan,” Phil whispered with a lump in his throat. “Please lea– _ugh!_ ” Someone twisted his arm, and he squeezed his eyes shut in pain.

Dan stared at the people around him with wide eyes, backing away to the wall with wide, terrified eyes. “I don't know what–” he stuttered with fear in his voice. “What should I . . .”

“P-please–” Phil choked out shakily, staring at the floor. “Please d-don't hurt him.”

“Do it.” Theodora shrieked abruptly. “Now!”

Phil's eyes widened in panic. He looked up to see a Hunter creeping up behind Dan. He grabbed Dan's arm, and Phil screamed, “Wait!”

Phil stilled like a statue when the man next to Dan pulled out something that looked like a slightly huge pen from his pocket. Everything that happened next happened very very slowly. His mind was full of guilt. An immense amount of guilt because he was the one who put Dan in this situation. He always knew this could happen. None of it happened unexpectedly. It was always a very real possibility, a very real threat. Everyone had warned him over and over again, but he never thought it would actually happen. The danger always seemed far away, like it was something that could happen to someone else but not to him.

Things like this always happened that way. It was impossible to truly understand the extent of danger while it was far away. Phil only realised the harsh reality when it had already crept up behind him and pulled him to the depths of the chasm. Before he could turn around, it had already happened.

The man uncapped the pen-like thing and stabbed Dan's arm with the sharp end. Dan's mouth opened to let out a silent gasp, and his dejected wide eyes stared up at Phil for a few, terrifying seconds and fell away. His wings collapsed behind his back, and he dropped to the floor limply. Phil gaped at Dan's prone body on the floor for several minutes, his mouth opening and closing desperately. He saw it happen, but it didn't completely register in his mind for a long time. His heart sank into the depths of his stomach. “D-dan?” His voice was small and shaky.

“Take him to the Leader downstairs,” Theodora's voice pierced through his muddled thoughts and confusion, snapping him back to reality.

Phil harshly shoved the men holding him. “What did you do to him?!” he screamed, and his eyes filled with tears. He rushed towards Dan. Dan was just a few steps away. Phil's teary eyes were fixated on Dan, and his trembling hand reached out to touch. He just needed to move a few inches to reach Dan, and for a split second, he was confident he could do it. He could reach Dan, but that hope shattered when two people grabbed his shoulders and held him back. “Let go! What do you want?! What did you do to him?”

“Let me go, fuck! What the fuck did you do to him?” Phil struggled and kicked and tried to reach Dan as they dragged Dan out of the apartment. “Dan! Dan, open your eyes. What happen–” Phil's emotions were all over the place, and the chatter around him rang in his ears. His mind was spinning, and he couldn't believe this was happening. He shoved them and screamed at them to stop, but no one even paid attention to him. Through the tears and commotion, Phil heard the sound of PJ and Anthony's door open. His heart slammed into his throat and he struggled to get outside, dragging the two men with him. Someone near him cuffed his hands, but his focus didn't shift from Dan. He screamed Dan's name and yelled at them to stop, struggling to get away. “PJ!” he shouted, “PJ!”

Someone shoved him against the wall, and Phil's head knocked against the door. He ignored the throbbing pain in his head, his gaze following the Hunters who were carrying an unconscious Dan away from him. His throat hurt and his chest squeezed with unbearable pain. “PJ!” he screamed desperately.

A small flame of hope flickered in his chest when PJ, Anthony and Luke stepped outside, their eyes wide and shocked. PJ gaped at Phil, looking startled, but his stunned expression didn't last for long. He masked his emotions with a look of indifference and hurried to Theodora's side, leaving Anthony and Luke to stare at Phil with terror on their faces. “Theo,” Phil heard PJ say in a slightly shaky voice, and he stared with hope blooming in his chest. “What is happening?”

“Your precious friend has been hiding a winged man in his home,” she replied with disinterest in her voice. “And not just any winged man. He's been hiding the notorious Prince.”

Phil stared at PJ hopefully, his eyes wide and his heart thudding against his chest. “PJ . . .” he murmured breathlessly in a broken voice, feeling extremely relieved. He knew PJ would do something. PJ would help him. PJ always found a way to help him, and this time wouldn't be any different. PJ always had his back. He trusted PJ wholeheartedly.

PJ grabbed Theodora's arm and pulled her away. Phil watched with wide, hopeful eyes and waited with bated breath. They were talking. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but they were _talking._ PJ was trying to help him. PJ would convince Theodora to let Dan go. Phil followed their every movement, every single breath, and waited. PJ glanced at him and turned away from Theodora, striding towards Anthony and Luke, looking determined and composed.

Phil glanced back at Dan and breathed in relief when he saw Dan's face. The Hunters were trying to cover Dan's wings with some kind of fabric, and Phil swallowed hastily, turning back to see his friends standing near him. “W-what happened?” he asked in an eager voice. “A-are they going to let him go?”

Anthony didn't look at him. He grabbed Phil's right arm, and Luke grabbed his left arm. “We'll take him,” Anthony whispered in a quiet voice, holding his arm tightly.

“W-what–” Phil stared at Anthony shakily, and he was feeling light-headed and terrified. “What are you doing?”

The Hunters released him, but Anthony grabbed him tightly, pulling him back. Phil's heart plunged, and he gaped at PJ. “What is the meaning of this?”

PJ clenched his jaw suddenly and avoided his gaze. Phil stared at him with wide, expectant eyes, but PJ wouldn't look at him. He lifted his hand and buttoned Phil's shirt to hide the mark, turning away from him abruptly. He backed away to the wall and folded his arms across his chest, his face blank and devoid of emotion. Phil's heart began to sink, and a strange emptiness grabbed hold of him. “PJ?” he whispered shakily. PJ averted his eyes, and an unbelievable amount of anger surged through Phil's veins. “PJ, say something!” he screamed with wide, shocked eyes. “PJ!” He glanced at Anthony, and he could feel his heartbeat in his ears, loud and pounding. “Anthony?” he murmured in a shaky voice, and Anthony looked away remorsefully. “Luke?”

Everyone seemed to be avoiding his gaze, and his throat burned. There was a knot in his stomach that kept getting tighter and tighter. Dan was slipping away from him, and he sniffed desperately. “Why aren't you doing anything, PJ? PJ!” he screamed, struggling against Anthony's tight grip. “T-they–they are taking him . . . they are taking Dan. PJ!” he sniffed, “PJ. PJ, please. PJ, look at me.”

PJ stared at the floor quietly, and Phil's hopes crashed to the floor. He bit his trembling bottom lip tightly to stop himself from crying. “W-why?” he whispered, and he knew he was being irrational but he couldn't help it. “Why aren't you doing anything?”

“P-phil . . . ” Dan's voice was slurred and barely audible, but it made Phil stop and turn with wide eyes. Dan's wings were covered with some kind of cloth-like thing, and his eyes were half-open, but his lips were moving.

“Dan . . . ” Phil swallowed painfully.

“Why is he still conscious? Use another pen,” Theodora commanded, and several Hunters surrounded Dan, obstructing Phil's view. “Make it quick. You don't want the leader to come up here, do you? Take him down to Leader.”

Phil clenched his teeth, and inhaled deeply to steady himself. “Anthony,” he managed to mumble through gritted teeth, “Let me go, Anthony.”

“Just stay still,” Anthony whispered in a guilty voice, “There is nothing we can do. Just shut up and don't talk.”

“Fuck you,” Phil spat and thrashed his legs, “Let go of me. Let me go with him. What the fuck is your problem?” he yelled, staring at the man standing in front of Dan with fear. “Anthony!”

Another man stabbed Dan's arm with a pen, and Dan's head lolled helplessly. Theodora was saying something, and two large men grabbed Dan's arms. Phil's heart thumped with pain, and he struggled. “Fuck. Fuck, I won't let them take him. I won't! Let go of me, goddammit!” he screamed.

Theodora glanced at him, and PJ stepped closer to Phil. “Phil, stop it.”

Phil's head throbbed, and he glared at Theodora. “What the fuck did he do to you?” He pulled his hands uselessly, his body shaking with anger and sadness. “Let him go. He was just living here. He was just fucking existing! He wasn't doing anything. We didn't do anything. What do you fucking want?!”

“Phil, I told you to stop.”

The two Hunters dragged Dan to the end of the hallway. Phil's head turned, and a sob slipped out of his mouth. “P-please . . . please let him go. Please. I'm begging you,” he sniffed helplessly, “He didn't do anything. Please. Please don't–”

“Stop it, Phil,” PJ muttered next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don't say anything.”

“Fuck you!” Phil spat, “He's my fucking boyfriend. I love–”

PJ's eyes widened immediately. “Shut up. Shut up, Phil–”

“I love him, and I promised him I would stay with him. We were finally bon–”

PJ's hand lifted abruptly to land a harsh slap against Phil's cheek, making his glasses tumble to the floor. Dan disappeared down the stairs, and tears slipped down Phil's face. “Shut. Up.” PJ hissed, his voice barely above a whisper. “ _Do not talk_.”

Phil panted and breathed heavily, his vision blurry due to his tears. “No,” he whispered defiantly, looking up at PJ with rage. “No, I will not shut up! Help Dan!” he shouted tearfully, “Help him! If you can't, let me go! Let me go with him.”

PJ gritted his teeth. “Don't make a scene.”

“What is your relationship with Daniel Howell?” Theodora asked suddenly, standing in front of him and looking down her nose at Phil. “We're taking him with us, but we honestly don't really care about you. If you shut up and stop resisting, I will let you go. I'm in charge right now, but the Leader of our unit is on the second floor, and he's coming here. Trust me, you don't want him to see you acting like this. You can live the rest of your life peacefully if you shut up and forget this ever happened.”

Phil shoved Luke against the wall. “Fuck off,” he choked out. Anthony's arms wrapped around his waist and he pulled Phil back forcefully. “Let go, Anthony. I promised Dan. I told him I would stay with him!” He let out a desperate sob. “L-let me go.”

“Stop it, Phil,” Anthony shouted, “Stop it. Shut up!”

Luke grabbed his arm, and Phil kicked him. He dug his nails into Anthony's skin in an attempt to get away. He tried to headbutt him, but Anthony dodged him, moving his chin away. “Stop struggling, you idiot,” he hissed, “Stop it.”

“Let– _argh_!–let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!” he screamed desperately. His screams had somehow turned into sobs, and he knew he looked pathetic, but he didn't care. “I promised him! I p-promised him . . .” he sniffed loudly. “Why don't you get it? Please–please let me go.”

The remaining Hunters stared at him with disapproval and disgust in their eyes, but Phil didn't mind. He could endure all dirty looks and insults if he could just be with Dan. Dan got caught because of his stupidity, and he couldn't stand the pain he felt in his chest. It was searing hot pain, a sensation so strong that he was dizzy. “Let go!” he panted and used every bit of his strength to kick Luke away. He elbowed Anthony's crotch and stumble forward.

“Stop him, PJ!” Anthony shouted. “Don't let him go to the second floor!”

PJ grabbed Phil's T-shirt and tackled him to the floor, forcing him to stay still. Phil panted harshly and struggled. “Fuck!” he cursed, thrashing his legs desperately.

“Phil . . .” Luke murmured in a depressed voice. “There is nothing you can do.”

“PJ,” Phil pleaded through tears and sniffed, “P-please. Please let me go. Please.”

PJ clenched his jaw and looked down at him blankly. “Sedate him, Theo,” he said in a quiet voice.

Phil's heart sank into his stomach, and he stared at PJ with wide, shocked eyes. PJ didn't meet his gaze, and Phil felt the wave of betrayal crashing into him painfully. “You're a fucking asshole,” he told PJ. “You're a fucking–”

“Theo, please sedate him before the leader–”

Theodora nodded, grabbing the same pen-like thing that they had used on Dan from a small bag strapped to her waist. “Keep him still.”

“NO!” Phil screamed as two Hunters gripped his hand tightly. He tried to pull it back desperately. “No, you can't. Y-you can't do this. Please. P-please. Let me go with him. Please. Let me s-see him. Let me see him just once. Just once. _Please.”_ Phil sniffed.

PJ's hands tightened around his arm and Phil glared at PJ with rage. “You fucking bastard. You t-traitor. You fucking traitor! You're a traitor!” He felt a sharp pain on his arm, and his vision went blurry. “You're a fucking coward and a traitor. I hate you, PJ. I hate you with every fucking fibre of my being. I will _never_ forgive you. I will never ever ever _ever_ forgive . . . f-forgive . . . y-you.” He breathed heavily, and his arms suddenly felt weak. “I . . . never . . . forgive . . . forgive you . . . never . . . ” A sudden drowsiness hit Phil, and he felt lightheaded and weak. “Dan . . . where . . . PJ . . . Dan . . .”

“That's it. Go to sleep. It will be okay.”

“Stay . . . I . . . p-promised . . .”

“Good night.”

Phil saw someone's boots near him. He tried to open his mouth, and he felt his tears slipping down his cheeks to his hands. Someone was saying something to him, but he couldn't understand what they were saying, and he didn't remember who they were. He inhaled deeply, and his eyelids drooped. He was so sleepy, and he didn't remember why he was trying so hard to stay awake. Everything was okay, and he was tired. So so tired and sleepy. He took a deep breath and sighed softly, closing his eyes and slipping into oblivion.


	42. Devastated

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“I'm just saying, okay? You didn't have to ask Dora to sedate him. You went too far. He was upset, but that's understandable–”

“Well, Anthony, why don't you answer my question? What the fuck was I supposed to do in your opinion? Tell me.”

“I don't know. Maybe you could've just–”

“He was fucking screaming about his bond. Do you think the Leader–”

“Guys, can you please stop fight–”

Phil let out a soft groan and lifted his hands weakly, holding his throbbing forehead sluggishly. He was awake, but not fully awake. He was somewhat aware of everything around him. He distantly heard hushed voices and timid whispers, but his thoughts were in disarray and his mind was fully submerged in disorientation. He couldn't tell what was happening for several seconds, and his body didn't feel like his own. He moved his hands and legs, but something felt odd. He felt drowsy and terribly exhausted. His eyelids were stuck together, and there was a weird, gross taste in his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut and slowly tried to open them.

“Phil?”

“Guys, he's awake.”

“Phil?”

“Phil, are you okay?”

Phil blinked his eyes open, squinting his eyes against the brightness in the room. He squeezed his eyes shut and blinked repeatedly to clear his blurry vision. His hands trembled, and his throat was extremely dry. He swallowed and swallowed, but the dryness didn't go away. “W-where . . . where am I?” he murmured, opening his eyes in confusion. “W-water.”

“Here.”

Phil turned his head confusedly and remained quiet as Luke helped him sit up and handed him a glass of water. He took it with trembling hands and frowned, drinking it without protest. Slowly, the tiredness lifted from his mind, and he looked around the room, staring at everything for several minutes. He was in a bedroom. He was in a very familiar bedroom. He frowned. “W-where . . .”

“My flat,” Luke answered gently.

Phil blinked in confusion and turned. Anthony and PJ were standing quietly next to the wall, and Luke was sitting in a chair near him. Phil's heart sank. “Where . . . ” he whispered in a dejected voice, “Where is Dan?”

There was a tense silence for several seconds. Phil's hands clenched into fists, and a lump blocked his throat. He dropped his face into his hands. “F-fuck.”

PJ stared at the floor determinedly. “Dan was taken to the underground correctional facility a few miles from here,” he told Phil in a calm voice, “I told Theo to help you. They let you go because I told them Dan was staying here by threatening you.”

Phil stilled and looked up with wide, stunned eyes, staring at PJ's blank face with a clenched jaw. He could feel his face burn with suppressed rage, and his hands trembled. He pushed the duvet aside and stood up wordlessly, heading straight for the door. His knees were wobbling and weak, but he didn't care.

“Wait, Phil,” Luke said worriedly, “Where are you going?”

Phil gritted his teeth. “I'm going to find Dan.”

PJ stepped away from the wall and frowned. “No, you can't. I told them–”

“You lied to them!” Phil snapped angrily, his chest heaving, “You fucking lied to–”

“I did that for you. I was trying to–”

“For me?” Phil scoffed and glared at PJ. “Did I tell you to do that? Did I tell you to lie?” He turned to PJ in anger. “Did I tell you to turn Dan into a complete criminal?” His chest ached when he thought of Dan, and his stomach tightened into a knot. “No one fucking told you to do that!” he screamed. “You didn't fucking do it for me. I never told you to do that!” Anger was bubbling up his chest, and he was shaking all over. He shoved PJ's shoulder with a clenched jaw. “You're a fucking traitor!”

Anthony stepped between them immediately. “Phil, calm down. I know you're acting like this because you're upset but–”

PJ pushed Anthony out of his way and stared at Phil with a clenched jaw, looking equally angry. “What else was I supposed to do then? Huh? You have no fucking idea what was going on in my mind at that moment. I did what I thought was right in that situation–”

“You fucking sedated me, you bastard!” Phil shouted, shoving PJ again. “Who the fuck told you to do that?” He pushed PJ back roughly. “I wanted to go with him. I was trying to save–”

“Guys, stop.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” PJ snapped, grabbing Phil's collar and pushing him back. “You're not some hero in a fairytale, you asshole. You can't save anyone. This is the real world. You were making it worse. You could've _died_ if it wasn't for Theo–”

“Please, guys, let's just–”

Phil's eyes burned with unshed tears, and his lips quivered. “I don't care. I wanted to go with him. I wanted them to take me with–”

“Why do you think this even happened?” PJ retorted angrily, “Why did Dan get caught in the first place. It's because _you_ were a complete idi–”

Phil's stomach dropped, and his throat closed up due to the guilt that was crawling up his chest. He grabbed PJ's collar in rage and slammed him against the wall. “Shut up!”

PJ shoved him back roughly and glared at him. “Dan got caught because of _your_ carelessness. How many fucking times did you go outside with him? How many times, Phil? Tell me!” he yelled harshly, “I told you before. I wasn't angry about you helping Dan, but either you do it right, or you don't try to help at all. This wouldn't have happened if you were serious about it!”

Luke stood up in concern. “PJ, don't–”

“How many times did Anthony warn you? _I_ warned you. We told you over and over again to not get bonded. You ignored everything and got bonded as soon as he came back into your life. Who did you do that for, Phil? Tell me,” he shouted in an enraged voice, “Did you do that for Dan? Did you do that for him? No!” He heaved. “You did that for _yourself_!”

Phil's hands balled into fists. Anthony stepped between them again. “Look, PJ. We're all pretty shaken–”

“Get out of the way, Anthony,” PJ snapped, shoving him and glaring at Phil. “Do you have any idea what would've happened if they found out about the bond?” he asked angrily, “No! Because you don't think about the consequences! I'm not your fucking babysitter. I have zero obligation to clean up your mess, but I was still trying to _help,_ you stupid bastard. I was trying to make the aftermath a little less bad. I was trying to fucking do _something,_ but you just had to ruin it by revealing everything!” He stopped to catch his breath, panting roughly. “You're fucking lucky it was Theo's group who came to take Dan, or else, you'd be dead by now!”

PJ glared at him, gritting his teeth. “We had no other option but to sedate you. If they find out about the bond, they're going to keep you hostage to make Dan do things he doesn't want to! Do you understand that? Do you ever fucking think before taking action?”

“PJ!” Anthony shouted angrily, “That's enough.” He grabbed PJ's arm and pulled him back. “Come on. That's enough. Shut up.”

“Anthony–”

“I said that's enough!” Anthony snapped, pulling him towards the door. “Let's just go. Leave him alone.” PJ struggled and Anthony dragged him out forcefully. “Let's go for a walk. Get some fresh air. All of us need to calm down.”

The door closed behind Anthony, but hushed whispers and muffled arguments from the other side of the door continued to reach Phil's ears for several minutes. He stood on the same spot, unmoving and paralysed, for what felt like hours. His hands were clenched, and he glared at the floor tearfully, taking deep breaths to stop himself from outright crying. He could tell Luke was sending him worried glances, but he didn't have the strength or goodwill left inside him at that moment to feel bad for involving Luke in his predicament.

“Phil,” Luke murmured in a gentle voice, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, it's not your fault. It happens. You didn't do anything wrong. Even if you hadn't gone outside with Dan, something else would've happened. Dan is an important person, and a lot of people are looking for him. It was risky from the start. You tried your best. It's okay.”

Phil's throat constricted, and he sniffed, clenching his jaw tightly and staring at the floor silently. Luke squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “Don't worry too much, okay?” he said gently, “Dan is pretty strong. He can take care of himself.” He glanced at the alarm clock on the table. “I called Rayna and told her everything a while ago. They will come here later tonight. It'll be okay. Dan has many people on his side. I'm sure they will find a way to help him.”

Phil's fists unclenched, and he looked up immediately. “H-help–help him?”

Luke bit his bottom lip worriedly and nodded. “Yes. Connor and Rayna are not going to just sit back and let them keep Dan. They will help Dan. I'm sure of it,” he assured, “Don't try to do anything dangerous, alright? PJ was right, Phil. He's smart. You should thank him. Dan is strong, and he is capable of protecting himself. I know he looks weak, but I promise you he's not, but if they find out about the bond, they will probably use you to blackmail Dan. PJ did the right thing. I know you're hurt, but please don't resent PJ, okay? He was just genuinely trying to help.”

Phil swallowed the lump in his throat, and even though, he knew Luke was probably right, he was still angry at PJ. His emotions were all over the place. He knew he was taking it out on the wrong person, but he couldn't help it. He didn't know where else to direct his anger.

Luke gave him a pity-filled glance. “Earlier, when we heard the commotion outside and tried to open the door, PJ was the one who stopped us. We heard you scream, and PJ made us wait behind the door. He was thinking, Phil. He was trying to listen to the noises outside to assess the situation. He was already thinking about helping you and Dan,” he detailed gently, “You shouldn't call PJ a traitor. He's loyal to you. I hope you know that.”

Phil clenched his jaw, and Luke gazed at him in sympathy. “Look, this is not the first time this has happened. You're not the first ever person to fall in love with a winged man. It has happened over the years, but usually the Hunters take the winged man but they don't really do anything to the human because technically they have no right to arrest winged men either. It's just easier to arrest winged men because they can just make up a lie and no one would care,” he explained, “But Dan is different. We can't let the Hunters know about you. No matter what, okay? Theo's group is more lenient, and that is the only reason we were able to hide you.”

Phil bit his bottom lip tightly and wiped his eyes, sniffing quietly. Luke smiled a little sorrowfully. “Just wait for Connor, okay? Don't try to do anything. I'm sure Connor will do something to help Dan,” he told Phil, stepping away to the door, “I'll leave you alone now. Get some rest. I assure you Dan will be fine.”

Phil was finally greeted by a loud silence that roared in his ears. His knees shook and his hands trembled. He felt tears that he had been holding back gather at the corner of his eyes, and a small sob slipped out of his mouth. It was in that moment, when he was completely alone, that he felt like breaking down entirely. He melted down to the bed and buried his face into the pillow, muffling the noises of grief that left his mouth. Several regrets rushed through his mind, but what hurt him the most was the fact that he was completely and utterly powerless. He couldn't do anything. He had no idea how to help Dan, and he didn't have any plan. He was useless, incapable and there was nothing he could do. He was _useless._

PJ was right. Connor was right. Everyone was _right_ to be angry at him. It was true. He was careless and an idiot. He had promised Connor to keep Dan safe, and he completely failed. He should've let Dan go with Connor. Dan wasn't safe here, and he should've forced Dan to go with Connor. He shouldn't have let Dan stay with him. He shouldn't have gone outside. If only he had done things a little differently, he wouldn't be in this miserable situation and Dan wouldn't be somewhere far away in an unknown place surrounded by Hunters. His massive ego had made him believe he could help Dan, protect him, but it was all just his stupidity. He couldn't do _anything_.

Phil squeezed the pillow against his face with trembling hands and apologized to Dan in his mind over and over again.

~*~

“Phil?” Someone knocked on the door, and Phil slowly opened his eyes, staring at the white ceiling quietly. “Connor and Rayna are here.”

Phil's heart thumped with pain, and his throat constricted. An immense amount of guilt choked him, and his stomach tangled into a knot. He sat up lethargically and wiped the tear tracks off his face, feeling lonely and pathetic. He couldn't believe how arrogant he had acted in front of Connor when in reality he was completely helpless. He couldn't do anything on his own, and he was someone who couldn't live without depending on others. He swallowed and bit his lip tightly, tiredly getting up from the bed and ambling to the door. His eyes remained fixed on the floor shamefully as he opened the door.

“Phil.” Luke's voice was sympathetic. “You look–nevermind.” He turned and walked away.

Phil followed him wordlessly. His eyes were lowered, and his head hung below his shoulders. He didn't have the strength to look up and meet anyone's eyes. He was ashamed of himself, and there was a constant pit of emptiness in his stomach, slowly devouring him from the inside. Every time he managed to push the thought of Dan's well-being to the back of his mind, it crawled back to the forefront of his mind and made him want to scream even more.

Phil could feel everyone's gaze on him the moment he walked into the living room. The angry chatter and arguments stopped immediately when Phil entered, and he could tell everyone was glaring at him. He stared at the floor numbly and held back tears. He knew he was an idiot, and he had managed to fuck everything up once again. He wasn't going to argue anymore. Someone as helpless as him couldn't afford to be arrogant. He stood near Luke without saying anything, staying completely silent as he waited for Connor's outraged shouts. The silence in the room pressed against his ears, and he swallowed harshly.

“Sit.”

Phil blinked and looked up at Connor. Connor didn't look at him, and Phil's heart plummeted. “W-what?” he managed to whisper.

“Sit down,” Connor muttered hastily, pointing to a chair next to Anthony. “Look, we're not here to argue about what happened. Shouting and pointing fingers would help no one. We don't have much time. We have to think about what to do next. Sit down.”

Anthony glanced at Phil and waved awkwardly, and Phil clenched his jaw tightly. He swallowed his pride and nodded wordlessly, walking towards Anthony and sitting near him. His hands slightly trembled, but he managed to push his emotions back. He shoved all of his guilt, regrets and pain to the back of his mind, locking it away. He sat up a little and breathed deeply. Connor was right. He understood what he was trying to say. There were dark circles under Connor's eyes, and it didn't look like had gotten any sleep, but he still managed to remain calm and collected. He looked determined to save Dan. Phil needed to put his feelings away and think about Dan.

“What did you just say about Hunters?” PJ asked suddenly, his attention back on Connor. Phil glanced at PJ, and his guilt rose to the surface once again. PJ wasn't looking at him, and he seemed to be avoiding Phil. “Is that true?”

Rayna nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“You really have Hunters on your side,” Anthony stated with wide eyes, and Phil blinked in shock.

“Dan wanted to expose the facility,” Connor mumbled in a soft voice, “The experiments they are conducting there–”

Phil's breath hitched, and his throat tightened. “Ex–experiments?”

Connor glanced at him. “Yes, but it's against international laws. Several countries support winged people, and they won't sit still if they find out about the facility. The government will be forced to make reparations. Dan knew that, and he was working on exposing them. He recruited many people to help him. There are a few Hunters who are actually working with us. There are a few at the facility who used to send their reports to Dan every month, but, erm, I'm not sure who they are, and I honestly don't know much about it. It was Dan who–”

“This whole situation has cost us a lot,” Rayna interjected, “I'm sure the people who were sending reports to Dan are pretty confused right now. They suddenly lost contact with Dan, and they are stuck in the facility.”

Connor nodded. “But we don't know how to contact them. Dan was–well, he was a perfectionist. He liked things organized, and he got irritated when we made mistakes so he did everything by himself. Dan did tell us what he was doing, but we were never really involved in it so we don't know much about the facility.”

“Guys, someone's here,” Luke interjected, “The doorbell just–”

“Ah, that must be Theo,” Rayna exclaimed in a hopeful voice.

“Theo?” PJ arched an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Should I open the door?” Luke asked worriedly.

Connor nodded. “Yes. I asked her to come,” he explained. Luke walked away, and Connor elaborated, “Theo can help us, and we'll try our best to find the rest of our allies. We have a plan, and we will save Dan. I don't think Dan even needs our help, but we will still try to help him. We want you–” He stopped awkwardly and hesitated for a fleeting moment. “We want you guys to stay out of it.”

Phil blinked. “W-what?”

Rayna sighed softly. “We don't need your help,” she told them without missing a beat, “Look, we don't hold a grudge against you or anything. It's not anyone's fault. I know Phil tried to help Dan. We don't blame you. It's just that . . . well, frankly speaking, you guys are way too weak, and you'll just be a burden. There is big big difference between our physical strengths. The weakest winged man in the Village is still a lot stronger than the average human. We have our own way of doing things. We will tell you if something happens, but we want you to stay out of it.”

Phil swallowed and leaned forward. “I . . . ” Everyone turned to him immediately, and he dropped his gaze to the floor nervously. “I can't–I can't sit still. I want to–I want to help. I want to go to the facility. I want to do something. I can't–is it possible to help him?”

“Yes, but you should stay here and hide,” Connor advised cautiously, “That mark is problematic. Don't meet anyone and don't go outside. Don't try to do anything. We came here today to tell you to not do anything.” He pursed his lips and sighed. “Look, I know you're worried about Dan, but Dan is probably a hundred times stronger than you are. Honestly, at this point, I think you are Dan's weakness. Don't let them know about the bond. No matter what.”

Phil's heart sank, and he stared at the floor quietly, biting his lip tightly. He clenched his jaw and looked up. “But is there anything that I can–”

“Trust me,” Rayna interjected sharply, “As long as they don't have anything to blackmail him with, Dan is safe. They will have to bring Queen Alexandra herself if they even want to go _near_ Dan.”

Phil swallowed meekly, and opened his mouth to plead with her, but he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Oh, wow, everyone is here,” someone quipped in a cheerful voice.

Phil blinked and turned to notice Luke walking in with a woman. Her voice was familiar, but she was wearing a helmet, and Phil couldn't see her face. She was wearing tight black pants and a black leather jacket. Her hands were shoved into her pockets, and she looked strangely casual. She lifted her slender hand and saluted everyone playfully. “Yo.”

Phil frowned, and he felt like he had heard that voice before, but he couldn't quite remember it. Rayna huffed next to him. “Please, Theo,” she murmured in a tense voice, “We're all tired. We don't have time for your jokes.”

PJ leaned forward, and his gaze was sharp as he stared at Theo. Theo was silent for some time, and she slowly removed her hands from her pocket. She grabbed her helmet and removed it slowly, and Phil's eyes widened immediately. Anthony let out a loud gasp, and Luke's hand flew to cover his mouth. “Theodora?!”

Theodora smiled, flicking her hair over her shoulders and sitting down next to PJ. “Yup.” She shrugged. “It's me.”

“This is Theo,” Connor explained with a sigh, “She's working with us. She's the only one we know. I'm sure there are a lot more, but only Dan knows them.”

Phil gaped at Theodora, and his hands clenched in anger. “But why didn't she–”

Rayna agreed with a nod. “She tried to warn us a few minutes before Hunters arrested Dan, but we couldn't do anything. She didn't have a choice.”

“Dude, I was so shocked,” Theo spluttered suddenly, pointing at Phil. “He is actually bonded to Dan?!” She sat up and crossed her legs. “Why didn't you tell me about this? Why didn't this idiot hide his mark? Why didn't you tell me Dan was living here?”

Anthony blinked, looking surprised. “Are you Dora's twin?”

“Huh? No.”

“You just sound so–”

Theo shrugged. “It's called acting and having a tough job. This is the real me.”

PJ leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “You didn't know? You're the Captain of our group. Why weren't you informed beforehand?”

“PJ doesn't look surprised at all,” Anthony muttered under his breath.

Theo frowned all of a sudden. “I'm not sure,” she said pensively, “We searched this building once before, and I immediately knew a winged man was here just from the way Phil was acting, but I was able to cover for him. I'm not sure why the Leader didn't tell me. I knew somehow they had found out about the winged man living here, but I didn't know it was Dan. I only found out about it a few minutes before we came here.” She looked up at Phil. “And you! You're so oblivious to everything. Why didn't you hide your mark? What were you thinking?”

Phil blinked and swallowed. He felt like he was the only one in the room that didn't know anything at all. “I–I, erm,” he stammered awkwardly.

Theo's eyes narrowed, and she sat up solemnly. “You should hide.”

Phil looked up with a frown. “What?”

“You should hide. Don't go back to your apartment. I think the Leader knows about you,” she mumbled pensively, “My entire team is loyal to me. They would never disobey me, but everyone heard you declaring your love for Dan. I think someone told the Leader about you. You should stay out of this and hide. At least until the bond settles. It probably isn't affecting you, but Dan is definitely feeling terrible. Newly bonded winged men are highly emotional and unstable. His hormones are probably going haywire. You should go somewhere safe.”

Rayna's eyes narrowed at Phil. “No, I think it's affecting Phil.”

Phil bit his lip and stared at his hands vacantly.

Rayna frowned. “Do you feel calm when you notice Dan's scent?”

Phil blinked and looked up. “Um. Yeah.”

Rayna sighed. “It's affecting you then.” She gestured to Connor. “I'm bonded to Connor. We can always feel each other's presence. It's because of the strong scent.”

Theo frowned in confusion. “I thought Dan didn't have a scent.”

“Yeah, but that is because Dan can mask his smell. He can't do that with Phil. Phil is his partner,” Rayna told her, “If a mere human can smell another winged man's scent then that just means that the winged man is that much interested in the human.”

Phil stared at the floor quietly, and Theo arched an eyebrow. “Okay, then why don't you take Phil to the castle?” she suggested, “It's where he belongs now.”

“Absolutely not,” PJ interjected immediately, “Someone is planning a coup and trying to assassinate Dan, and you want Dan's partner to live in the castle with zero protection?”

“Ah,” Theo sat back and sighed. “Right. Lydia called to tell me about that. Sorry, I forgot about it.”

“Why don't you come to my home?” Rayna blurted suddenly, and Connor looked up sharply. “Erm, I mean, it's safe and no one will bother you. It's just me and my mom. My mom doesn't hate humans, and Luke can come too if you feel uncomfortable alone. Anthony and PJ have duties so they can't–”

“Yes. I don't mind,” Phil murmured in a barely audible voice.

There was silence for a long time, and Anthony cleared his throat. “You agreed quickly,” he stated awkwardly.

Phil swallowed the lump in his throat. “I just want Dan to be safe. I don't want to repeat the same mistakes I made last time. If it's for Dan, I'll go to Rayna's home and stay there, but–but just–I–” His voice cracked and he stared at the floor with tears in his eyes. “I'm sorry.”

No one spoke for several tense moments, and Phil was fine with that. He didn't feel embarrassed for telling the truth about how he was feeling.

Rayna coughed awkwardly. “Well, I will–I will make the arrangements, and I'll text Luke in a few hours. You should pack your clothes and whatever you need until then.”

Phil nodded rigidly. “O-okay.”

“I don't mind coming with you,” Luke explained with a smile, shuffling to Phil and glancing at Rayna. “I still can't believe you have Hunters on your side though.” He placed a hand on Phil's shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. “I believe in them. I think they can help Dan.”

Phil didn't answer, and he didn't feel like thinking or talking. Everything hurt, and he just wanted to go to sleep. Anthony glanced at Phil worriedly and looked away. “But I'm really surprised. Why are you helping winged people, Dora? How did you become a . . . uh, spy?”

Theo smiled sheepishly. “Spy sounds cool, doesn't it?“ she chirped and shrugged. “But why wouldn't I help winged men? I'm a winged woman.”

Phil looked up instantly, and there was a sudden, stunned silence. Anthony gaped at Theo. “What?”

“I'm a winged woman,” she repeated with a raised eyebrow.

“Er, what?” PJ asked in confusion. “You don't have wings.”

“Yeah, because I'm half-human,” Theo explained cautiously, “My mother was a winged woman, and my father is a human. My mom died after giving birth to me though. My dad was the one who raised me.” She sighed softly. “Dan found my mother's family in the Village and contacted me through them. That's how I started working for him.”

Anthony blinked repeatedly, and he still looked utterly shocked. “Whoa.”

Connor huffed loudly and stood up. “I don't have time to sit here and talk all day. I have a lot of things to do. I just came here to tell you how important it is to make sure they don't find Phil. Phil will be staying with Rayna so that is not an issue anymore. Stay out of this completely,” he ordered, “We'll take care of it. We will find Dan. We don't need help. That is all.”

Rayna nodded. “Yes. We should get going.” She glanced at Luke. “I will text you in two hours. I just need to go back and tell my mom. Pack your things and be ready. You should come today.”

Luke nodded, and Phil stayed silent and quietly watched as everyone stood up. Anthony glanced at him nervously and mumbled, “We have night duty tonight so we are–”

“Don't worry,” Luke interfered, “Phil will be fine here. I'll call you when he leaves.”

Anthony nodded and glanced at PJ anxiously. PJ didn't look at Phil, and Phil wasn't sure what to say to him. He knew he should apologise or resolve their fight, but he was completely exhausted, both mentally and physically. His knees wobbled slightly and his vision blurred. He swallowed the lump in his throat and sidestepped Luke, ignoring PJ and heading down the corridor towards the empty bedroom. His feet sluggishly carried him to his bed, and he dropped on top of it, his hands immediately grasping the pillow against his chest. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes tiredly. He fell asleep in a mere few minutes, and his mind submerged into a sea of dreams about Dan.

~*~

Phil awoke abruptly to the sound of quiet thuds and thumps of footsteps. His hands tightened around the pillow, and he could feel the dried up tears that were making his eyelids stick together. His hand lifted shakily to rub his eyes, and his stomach twisted with pain when memories flooded into his brain. Dan's grinning face popped into his mind, and his chest tightened immediately. He slowly blinked his eyes open and glanced up at the ceiling. A loud thud invaded the silence, and Phil blinked, sitting up in confusion and peering into the darkness with disorientation. “L-luke?” he murmured sleepily, “Is it time to go?”

“Use the pen!” someone shouted, and Phil blinked, turning his head to notice a Hunter standing right next to him. His mouth opened to let out a scream, but before he could even move, someone grabbed his arm.

“W-what–” Phil breathed, looking back with wide, shocked eyes. Phil's arm throbbed with a pricking pain, and a similar sensation from before overtook him. He gasped, and his eyes burned, but he couldn't understand what was happening. It happened so suddenly. It was probably a dream. His eyes drooped, and he felt oddly tired and sleepy. He fell back against the pillows and closed his eyes tightly. It was definitely a dream, he thought to himself bitterly. If it somehow wasn't a dream, he hoped they would at least take him to where Dan was. At least, he could see Dan now.

“D-don't . . . ” he managed to mumble before losing consciousness, “. . . hurt L-luke. H-he has nothing to do with it. P-please . . . ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I just want to give some info about when this fic will end. It'll probably end somewhere near chapter 56 or 57 so at least 14-15 chapters left. I actually don't have the whole thing written. I'm somewhere near chapter 54 and I was supposed to finish it by now but I got sucked into the One Piece fandom and stopped writing :(  
> Anyway I'm 95% sure it'll end at chapter 56 but the 5% who knows, I might want to cut something out or add something new, I don't know for sure, but I still wanted to give you a rough idea :) Hope it cleared your doubts. See you next week. Have a great day/night btw ^-^


	43. The facility

Phil regained consciousness slowly. For a long time, it felt like he was floating somewhere, like his mind was stuck somewhere above. He was in a state of extreme disorientation. His eyeballs moved desperately but his eyes were tightly closed. His body felt light and weightless, like he was falling, falling very very fast. His hands tried to grip onto something, but there was nothing there, and he panicked immediately. He panted, and his mind was still submerged in a messy dream. Bizarre, confusing images flashed in his brain, and he wanted to wake up. He knew he was dreaming, but he couldn't move.

Phil let out a loud gasp, and he didn't know what had happened, but suddenly his arms and limbs were released from restraints, and he breathed a sigh of relief. His hands flew to his face to clutch his throbbing head. He managed to somehow breathe deeply and push himself back to sit up against the pillow. He wheezed helplessly and slowly blinked his eyes open, rubbing his forehead with a small groan. “F-fuck,” he panted, swallowing desperately to get rid of the extreme dryness in his throat.

At first, Phil didn't notice it. He didn't know how it was possible to not notice it, but somehow he was too confused and disgruntled to notice where he was. His hands were slightly shaking, and he glanced down at his hand to find a bright-red bracelet-like thing on his wrist. It was beeping, and a red light glowed bleakly in the centre of it. It was displaying some kind of number. He blinked in confusion, and he wondered what kind of dream he was having. He frowned and looked down at himself. “W-wha . . .” His eyes widened in shock, and he pulled the white T-shirt he was wearing. He didn't remember owning a pure white, patternless T-shirt. Could it be Luke's T-shirt?

_Luke._ Phil blinked, and a sharp pain pulsed inside his head. He dropped his face into his hands and gasped. “Fuck.” He blinked and looked up immediately, his eyes widening as he stared at the unfamiliar room. He suddenly realised that he wasn't in Luke's apartment. He was in a small, enclosed room with no windows. The walls and the floor were pure white, and there was only a small bed, an empty table and a chair in the room. His heartbeat quickened in terror and he looked around wildly. There was a wooden door to his left and a metal door in front of him, with a small, square-shaped opening with metal bars on top of it.

“W-what the–” he murmured breathlessly, blinking repeatedly when a specific memory rushed to the forefront of his brain. “Dammit,” he exhaled deeply when the realisation dawned on him. He suddenly remembered the night before with overwhelming clarity. In that moment, in his sleepy sluggishness and disorientation, he had ended up dismissing it as a dream, but it wasn't a dream. It happened. It really happened, and Phil's heart pounded against his chest when he realised it. He sat up and glanced around wildly, his heart thudding against his chest violently. His hands trembled, and his knees shook with fear, but his mind was full of Dan. Dan was here. He could feel it. Dan was somewhere near. He could smell Dan's scent in the air.

Phil's stomach turned uncomfortably, and he took deep breaths to compose himself. He didn't know where he was, or what had happened to Luke, and several horrible thoughts floated to his head. PJ's ominous words rang in his ears, and he felt like the air was being squeezed out of his lungs. _Facility._ Was this the facility? He swallowed his emotions and moved away from the pillows. His feet touched the cold floor, and he cautiously stepped forward, checking his left and right fearfully. He looked behind him and in front of him hastily, the movements of his eyes quick and efficient. His chest was heaving, and he didn't know what he was supposed to do. His eyes returned to the metal door, and he stepped forward nervously.

There was a loud clanking noise, and something clattered. His heart plummeted to the floor instantly. He swallowed and looked down at his feet to find a single cuff on his right ankle and a chain that was attached to the bed. His throat closed and his knees wobbled as he melted to the floor in shock. “O-oh god, what is–what is this?” he whispered in terror.

He heard the sound of jingling keys, and he looked up fearfully with wide eyes, scooting back against the bed timidly. He waited with bated breath, and the door glowed red and beeped noisily. It opened with a loud, echoing clang, and Phil jerked back immediately, his eyes wide and panicked as he backed away towards the bed, clenching his shaking hands into fists. His gaze was fixed on the door, and he watched wordlessly as several Hunters in black uniforms stepped into the room. They were wearing strange helmet-like things on their heads, and they were surrounding a woman with long golden hair.

Phil blinked, squinting his eyes at the familiar-looking woman.

“Is this Prince Daniel's bonded partner?” she asked in an uninterested voice.

Phil stilled almost instantly. The woman stepped into the room fully, and the Hunters flanked her without missing a beat. He saw her face for the first time, and his jaw dropped in shock. His knees trembled vehemently, and his fingers curled against the cold floor. He gaped up at the woman standing in front of him. Her lips were covered with thick, red lipstick, and her eyes landed on Phil coldly. She was wearing a lab coat and holding a clipboard in her hand. Her face was emotionless as she looked at Phil with a sharp gaze. “L-louise,” he blurted breathlessly.

“Phil Lester, was it?” she murmured blankly, “You are in an underground correctional facility for winged men. I will be answering your questions regarding–”

“W-what–” Phil's heart thudded against his chest, and his gaze was eager as he stared at Louise. He was extremely relieved to see a familiar face in a place totally unknown and alien to him. He was both shocked and happy. He was confused, but he was hopeful. Louise had always been a private person. Phil had known her for years, and he was close to her children. He knew she was a nurse, but he didn't know she worked in a place like this. In hindsight, he realised that there were several instances where Louise was more secretive than was considered normal, but he had never doubted her. He had never had a reason to suspect her. “What are y-you doing here? I d-didn't know that you–”

Louise held up a hand to silence him, and he stared up at her earnestly. She glanced at the Hunters standing near her. “Leave us alone,” she commanded solemnly, waving an absent hand.

The Hunters nodded dutifully and turned away. Phil watched with wide eyes as they left the room one by one, closing the door and leaving Louise alone with Phil. Phil gulped and looked back at her with relief. He managed to stand up, but his trembling legs made him collapse back against the bed. “T-thank you,” he murmured, breathing deeply to compose himself. “Y-you are–”

“I work in the lab here,” she answered calmly, dragging the chair over and taking a seat on it. “We're conducting an important research here, and you might be crucial for it.”

“W-what?” Phil asked in confusion. He swallowed and stared at her hopefully. “Louise,” Phil whispered earnestly. “Lou, I–I'm sorry, I, erm, do you know about Dan? Is he here? Do you know him? Do you know where he is? Can I–can I see him? Can I–”

“Please don't talk like we know each other,” she asserted in an oddly casual voice, “I don't know you. I'm not here because I want to be. I don't even want to see your face.”

Phil stilled and swallowed nervously. “W-what?” he asked in confusion, moving closer desperately. “Listen, I need your help. Do you know Dan? He is–apparently, he is a Prince, and–and I really want to see him. Do you know where he is? Can you find him for me? Can you, maybe, can you ask the Hunters outside to–”

“Mr Lester,” Louise said in a solemn voice, “Please sit down.”

Phil's heart plummeted, and he tried again in desperation, “Listen, I–I don't have much time. I want to see him. Can I–”

“Sit. Down,” she hissed through gritted teeth, “If you won't sit down, I'm going to call the Hunters to _make_ you sit down.”

Phil snapped his jaw shut, and a lump formed in his throat. He clenched his hands into fists and slowly walked back, sitting down obediently. He needed to calm down and collect himself. He remembered PJ's words and realised that he needed to act cautiously or else he would be unconsciously endangering Dan. He sat down and stared at his shaking hands, his jaw clenched as he remained still and silent. He was frightened and shaking so badly that he could feel the bed vibrating along with him. He was _terrified._

Louise nodded. “Good.” She glanced down at the clipboard in her hand. “You are in an underground facility. You've been here for a whole 38 hours, but you're probably not aware because you were unconscious for that time. Apparently, you had an adverse reaction to the sleeper pen, and you convulsed, but our doctors were able to treat you. It made you sleep for 38 hours straight. We're terribly sorry for that.” She looked up sombrely. “You're here because you committed a crime. Hunters found you at Luke Adams's house 38 hours ago. They used the pen on you while you were sleeping.”

“L-luke?” Phil whispered fearfully.

“Luke Adams was taken into custody, but he was released immediately because Hunters found that he had nothing to do with anything.”

Phil's head was spinning. “W-what crime?”

Louise looked up blankly. “Pardon?”

Phil clenched his teeth. “Y-you said that I committed a crime. What crime did I commit?” he asked shakily, “What the fuck did I do? According to the law, Winged men _can_ enter my home if I allow it. I gave him permission to live with me. He didn't attack anyone. He didn't even talk to anyone. He didn't do anything to any–”

“You're lying,” Louise told him impassively. “There are several witnesses that–”

“Where?” he shouted angrily, “This is the fucking 21st century! You can't just fucking _chain_ me–”

“You helped a winged man who was planning to attack your apartment building,” Louise bellowed in fury, “You helped a terrorist! You are a spy. You should be charged with treason! You're bonded to King Dominic's son, and you were living with humans to collect information about us. You're friends with Hunters PJ and Anthony, and you have contacts with Connor Wilson and Rayna Knight. You are working with winged men and plotting to–”

“Treason? What the fuck are you talking about? You're deliberately twisting the story to–to further your own agenda–”

“You are conspiring with winged men to wage war against humankind–”

“You're fucking delusional! What the fuck is wrong with–”

“Prince Daniel is here.”

Phil halted and looked up with wide eyes. “He–he is?”

Louise nodded. “I'd be careful with what I say, if I were you,” she explained with an arched eyebrow. “Everything depends on your answer.”

“My . . . ” Phil blinked, and his eyes widened. He felt his stomach sink in terror. “My answer?”

“Yes, Mr Lester,” Louise said nonchalantly, “Sit down. Let's talk.”

“Lou–Louise,” he breathed shakily, “Do you know where he is? Can I see him? Can you take me to him? Can I–”

“Sit down,” Louise threatened in a warning tone, gesturing to the bed and giving Phil a sharp look. Dan's face popped into his mind, and he sat down quietly, intertwining his trembling hands tightly and swallowing the anger that rose from his chest. Louise nodded in approval and continued, “We have not released any information about you or Dan to the public and we don't plan to.”

“Yes, because what you're doing is unacceptable,” he muttered under his breath.

Louise pretended not to listen and elaborated, “You're here because you're bonded to Queen Alexandra's son, Prince Daniel. He is very important, and we want _you_ to listen to our demands and make a decision.”

“D-demands?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “We're looking for something. We want you to co-operate with us.” She looked up sharply. “Co-operating with us is your best option. You will not leave this building until we find what we want. You will stay here, in this room, and work with us.” Her words dropped into the silence heavily, echoing in Phil's ears like death bells. “I should probably mention that we know everything about you. We know your friends, your distant relatives, the cafe you visit, everything. PJ, Anthony and Luke are safe right now, but . . .” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Who knows? It's life. Things can happen.”

Phil's throat squeezed, and the little flicker of hope that he had been trying hard to keep alive died immediately. “What do you want from me?” he whispered shakily.

“Nothing. Just stay here. That's all we want,” she explained in an eerily polite voice, “We'll bring you food, books, anything you want. You just need to stay here for a while.” She crossed her legs haughtily. “Prince Daniel is very temperamental, isn't he?” She flicked her hair and sighed. “He has already injured several Hunters, and he's refusing to calm down. None of us can go near him. Maybe he will calm down when he sees you.”

A painful emptiness seized Phil's heart, and he stared at the floor with unshed tears blurring his vision. Louise glanced at him and let out a small sigh. “We will release both of you when we find what we're looking for.”

“When will that be?” he asked through gritted teeth, clenching his hands into fists and avoiding Louise's gaze.

“It can take months–” She shrugged. “Maybe, years.” There was a sudden glint in her eyes. “But when we find it, it'll change the entire world.” She breathed deeply and smiled. “I promise you.”

There was a lump in Phil's throat, and he tried to swallow and swallow, but it felt like a rope of despair was tightening rapidly around him. He bit his lip and tried hard to fight back the tears that threatened to fall down his face. He didn't want to give her that satisfaction. “W-why?” he asked in a desperate voice, “Why are you doing this? What did we do to you? What did Dan do to you? We didn't do anything. Why is this–” His voice cracked. “Why is this happening to m-me?”

Louise arched an eyebrow at him and sighed. “Well, I believe you deserve an explanation,” she remarked coolly, “There are several reasons.” She furrowed her eyebrows thoughtfully. “First of all, you are an idiot to help someone like Prince Daniel. He's probably the most important person in the continent right now. Prince Dan will inherent Queen Alexandra's white wings when she dies. A winged man with white wings is very different from other winged men. Winged men heal way too fast when compared to us. They are physically stronger. They can fly even though they shouldn't be able to. They are better than us in every single way, but–”

Phil looked up, and Louise smiled widely. “We might be able to change that, and you will help us change it.”

Phil gulped. “W-what?”

Louise shrugged. “We are still not sure what unknown abilities Prince Dan has, but he is ten times stronger than the average winged man and his healing abilities are way better because of his mother.” Her eyes sparkled with interest and curiosity, and Phil's stomach churned uncomfortably. “I think he can consciously control the healing of his body. He can heal his broken bones and bruises in a few hours.” She looked up with wide, enthusiastic eyes. “Do you think it's a miracle? It's magic? Superpower?”

Phil pursed his lips and remained quiet. Louise shook her head. “No,” she breathed deeply in excitement and tapped her temple. “It's his brain. There is something there. Something different from us. Maybe it's wired differently. Maybe winged people with white wings are the advanced product of human evolution. If we can just find out what it is that differentiates him from us . . . can you even imagine what that will do?” She took a deep breath and composed herself. “It will change the entire world. No one will suffer due to cancer or–or diseases. There are already rumours that white wings can cure cancer. We will be able to regrow our arms and limbs like nails. Broken bones will no longer be a thing! Do you understand that?”

There was a deranged look on Louise's face, and Phil's heart clenched. He bit his lip tightly to stop himself from blurting out things that might endanger Dan and his friends. “N-no,” he forced himself to answer in a polite voice, biting his tongue and taking a shaky breath.

Louise chuckled. “If we can just find out how he heals himself, we might be able to eradicate all winged men from this world,” she huffed, “We might be able to take back our land.”

Phil gulped in terror. “L-land?”

“Yes. The village,” she told him, “It's _our_ land. The Village has many lakes and forests. They have trees and plants we have never seen before. It's _our land.”_ She clenched her jaw bitterly. Her gaze was sharp and determined, and suddenly, the realisation stung Phil's chest.

Louise was no longer his friend.

“We want many things, but I'm working on finding something that will stop their quick healing permanently,” Louise disclosed truthfully, “I want to find a way to stop winged men from healing. Normal drugs don't work on winged men. We have already developed the sleeper pen, but we want to find something that can permanently stop their healing ability.”

Phil's lips quivered when he thought about Dan. “W-why? Why do you think it's right to–to hurt winged men without–”

“What do you mean why?” She frowned. “Because humans are superior. We're not parasites who survive on blood. We're not cold-blooded murderers. We are kind and sensible. We deserve _freedom_ ,” she conveyed solemnly, “Prince Daniel is in our custody. We have the upper hand right now. If this succeeds, no one will ever fear the night. We will be free.” Her eyes turned cold. “I want a world where my children can go on a walk at night without fearing winged men, Phil. I want a world where I can see bustling cities at night.”

Phil breathed deeply, and he was struggling to maintain his composure. Louise narrowed her eyes at him doubtfully and asked, “You still feel bad for winged men, don't you?” She stared at him in disapproval and disappointment. Phil stayed silent, and she sighed heavily. “Tell me. Do you know about the myth about butterflies?”

Phil looked at her meekly. “W-what?”

Louise pursed her lips sombrely. “Apparently, if you notice white butterflies around you, it means that angels are watching over you and protecting you. There was a village that welcomed winged men wholeheartedly a long time ago. They thought winged people were like butterflies. Delicate and beautiful. The village treated them better than everyone else.” She looked up bitterly. “Do you know what happened to that village?” Phil shook his head weakly and swallowed. “They were murdered.”

Louise's fingers clenched around the clipboard tightly. “Humans are attracted to beauty, and Winged people have tricked humans using their beautiful wings throughout history. They look fragile and angelic, but they are not. They are vicious and barbaric,” she spat angrily, “My parents were killed by winged men. They were brutally murdered for no reason. What crime did they commit, Phil? Tell me. What did they do? Why were they murdered?”

Louise clenched her jaw. “For blood. They were killed for blood,” she whispered in anger, “There are millions of people like me. We live in terror. We can't even open our windows for a bit of fresh air. What did we do to deserve this?” She glared at the floor bitterly. “Winged men are monsters. They are murderers. They don't have emotions. Feelings. They don't have a heart. They don't feel remorse. They should not be allowed to live. Winged men should be eradicated from this world.”

She uncrossed her legs and gazed at Phil. “I have told you everything. Are you satisfied now, Mr Lester?” Phil remained silent, and Louise patted his knee. “It's alright. I don't blame you, Phil. I know you are a good person. You've been brainwashed by winged men. You will be fine. You will receive treatment here. Hopefully, you can be a better person with some help.”

Phil stared at the floor, frozen on the spot. His mind was stormy, and his thoughts were tangled wildly. He felt like he had forgotten how to breathe, and he was unable to speak, unable to move. He was stunned by Louise's absurd dream, and the gravity of the situation finally dawned on him. Truth washed over him like icy water, and he felt utterly hopeless. He would probably be spending the rest of his life in this white, empty room, and Dan would be bestowed with a fate even worse. Dan wasn't even a person in Louise's eyes. He was just another guinea pig, and that realisation shook him to his core.

Louise stood up gracefully and walked towards the door, but Phil didn't look at her. He couldn't even lift his gaze. His nostrils flared, and his hands trembled due to both fear and anger. He stared at the chains around his leg with unshed tears in his eyes, his jaw clenched tightly. “I'll come to see you every once in a while,” Louise told him with a smile as she stepped outside. “Have a great day, Phil.”

The metal door closed with a loud clang that echoed throughout the room. It beeped and clicked shut. Phil's knees finally gave out, and he collapsed on the floor. His stomach sank, and a terrible, unbearable feeling of despair made his chest feel all hollow. The utter powerlessness he felt inside made him want to bang his head against the floor. PJ's words and his own regrets and guilt flowed into his mind, and he couldn't even bear to think about Dan. He dropped his face into his hands and eventually gave up. His composure crumbled, and he sobbed desperately, melting completely to the floor with remorse. “I'm s-sorry,” he sniffed, “I'm sorry, Dan. I'm so sorry.”


	44. You can see Dan

Phil was completely and utterly alone in the white room, and he had begun to call it his prison cell. He was inside the room for hours, and he was counting every minute, every single second. There was no way to know how much time had passed, and he wasn't sure if it was day or night. He was extremely exhausted, but he couldn't bring himself to sleep. He was wide awake and vigilant, sitting quietly with his back pressed against the wall, and his gaze fixed at the metal door warily. He flinched every time he heard a muffled clatter or thud, and his eyes never wandered away from the metal door.

At first, he had been anxious and terrified. His increasing agitation and dismay had made him search for an escape route hysterically. He had banged repeatedly on the metal door, and he tried to break it with a plastic chair. He had seen rooms like this in movies, and he had stared up at the corners, looking for cameras, but the corners were empty. He had opened the wooden door to find a cramped bathroom. He had bent down and checked under the bed for any sort of listening devices or traps, but there had been none. He had sobbed and yelled and paced back and forth, thinking and rethinking and overanalyzing the situation. He had even grabbed the metal bars of the small window to scream for help, but his pleas went unanswered and probably unheard.

Slowly, after hours of pleading and lamenting, the overpowering panic had been replaced by a numbing sense of despair and dread. His body had reached its limit, and he had collapsed on the bed, but he didn't let himself give up. He had sat up silently, and he had decided to stay alert and attentive. When he had calmed down considerably, he noticed how cold the room was. It was freezing, but all he had was a thin blanket. He was wearing a very thin pant and a T-shirt, and there was nothing else in the room to keep him warm. He couldn't remember the last he ate food, and he could feel his stomach growl with hunger.

The door had only opened once since Louise left. Two men wearing some kind of uniform had entered his small room. One of them had placed a metal tray and a bottle of water on the floor, and another had brought two pairs of clothes and a towel. That was when he had noticed the prison guards flanking the door of his room. He had seen their black uniforms and guns, and he had suddenly realised how useless trying to escape would be. He was completely surrounded by Hunters from all sides. He was in some kind of underground facility, and it was probably tightly secure. There were probably cameras in the hallways, and prison guards standing on every corner. There was no way Phil could escape on his own.

Hopelessness had settled in his stomach at that moment, and he had sat with his knees pressed to his chest, shivering vehemently due to the cold. The stench of blood was thick in the air, and every few hours, a foul smell of burnt meat would permeate the air. It was a disgusting odour, almost like melting skin. Every time, it happened, Phil would press his palm against his nose and squeeze his eyes shut, breathing deeply as he gagged and suffered. It would disappear in a few minutes, and Phil would go back to staring at the metal door with an unwavering gaze.

“Is he sleeping?”

Phil blinked and gaped at the door with wide eyes, snapping out of his thoughts immediately when he heard a familiar voice. He let out a breath of relief and eagerly scooted towards the edge of the bed, staring at the door earnestly. There was a loud beep and a clang, and the door opened noisily. Louise's petite figure came into his view. He swallowed anxiously. “Louise,” he breathed, and he automatically felt better when he saw her familiar face.

Louise glanced down at the floor. “You didn't eat your dinner,” she stated with a small frown. “I'll get in trouble if you starve to death.”

“L-louise,” Phil whispered desperately. The chains around his leg rattled as he shuffled towards her with an expectant look on his face. “Lou, please. Let me see him. Just once, alright? I just want to know if he's okay,” he pleaded anxiously.

Louise stared at him impassively for several minutes, and Phil waited with bated breath for her answer. The initial panic had alleviated, and rationality had settled in his mind. He had been sitting in the room for more than twelve hours, maybe even more, and he had had a lot of time to think and ruminate about his next course of action. He had realised that the first thing he needed to do was to find out Dan's location and make sure he was alright. Everything else came after that. They were unfortunately captured, and he was tired of feeling guilty over it. He had realised that thinking back and regretting every action helped no one. He couldn't change the past, but he could plan something for the future. If both of them could just return alive, that would be more than enough.

The best way to ensure Dan's safety was to confirm it with his own eyes, and in order to do that, sucking up to Louise was the only option. “Louise, I will stay here,” he blurted shakily, “I will stay and help, but–but just let me see him. Take me to him. I need to see him.”

Louise sighed heavily. “Yeah. That's why I'm here. I came here to take you to him. You can see him.”

Phil blinked. “W-what?”

Louise didn't answer. She nodded to the Hunter beside her. Phil couldn't see any of the Hunters' faces. They were wearing some kind of helmets on their heads, and he frowned at them.

“Remove his shackles and cuff his hands,” she commanded in a dauntless voice.

Two Hunters wordlessly stepped towards him. Phil swallowed in trepidation, and he reeled back subconsciously. He watched with wide, startled eyes as the Hunters crouched on the floor next to his bare feet and unshackled him. The chains dropped to the floor with a clanking noise, and Phil sighed with relief. Another Hunter grasped his arm and cuffed his hands, and he stared at his hands vacantly, feeling despondent and petrified at the same time.

Phil remained silent, and he forced himself to act calm and collected. He was a reckless person, but the hopeless situation demanded him to be prudent and cool-headed. He was slowly grasping the gravity of the situation, and he couldn't afford to make careless statements. Acting impetuously would put Dan's well-being in jeopardy. He had finally understood PJ's words, and he was extremely grateful. PJ had always berated him for acting thoughtlessly, and his every single word echoed in Phil's mind clearly. It was telling him to control himself and helping him be calm.

Phil bit his tongue meekly, and he didn't speak a single word as the Hunters grabbed his arms and flanked him, pushing him out of the room into a wide, white hallway. His eyes widened in shock, and he gazed wildly at everything around him. Louise gestured with her hand, and the Hunters pulled him forward, following Louise. No one spoke for several minutes, and Phil used that time to thoroughly inspect his surroundings. He stared at everything around him with wide, shocked eyes, his head turning left and right hastily.

They were heading down a giant dimly-lit hallway. The floors and walls were pure white, similar to his room. There were many similar rooms with metal doors on either side of the hallway, and the whole place had tight security. There were security cameras and Hunters everywhere, and several people with white coats wandered here and there without paying him any attention. The air was suffused with a strong, pungent smell of chemicals and burning skin. Phil immediately felt nauseated, and he coughed quietly.

“Take us to Level 10,” Louise ordered suddenly, and Phil looked up to see a lift in front of him. The door opened, and the Hunters holding him shoved him inside, pinning his face against the wall as a loud beeping noise announced the closing of the door. He swallowed anxiously and waited patiently. There was another beeping noise, and the door opened with a sliding noise.

“Key card, please,” someone grunted in an uninterested voice.

Phil was dragged out of the lift, and he stared at the new floor with wide eyes. The floors were silver, and the walls were steel. This floor wasn't packed with people. It was mostly empty, but there were several cells with thick metal bars on either side. A woman was sitting on a desk to his left side, and there was a large laboratory on his right side. The door was half-open, and he could see numerous computers and strange tools and equipment littered everywhere. There was a cold, metallic taste in the air and it smelled strongly like blood.

“Here,” Louise mumbled, and Phil turned to see her flashing a red card in front of the woman at the desk.

The woman nodded diligently. “Cell number?”

“Dan Howell,” Louise told her confidently.

The woman stilled, and she looked up sharply. “No one is allowed to see–”

Louise pointed at Phil lazily. “This is his bonded partner.”

“Oh.” The woman blinked. “Ah. Sorry. We've been waiting for you.” She snatched a bunch of keys and black-coloured thick cards from a drawer and gestured towards a door near her. “This way,” she said, nodding at a man in a suit standing near the lift. “Prince Daniel is on the last level.”

The Hunters pushed Phil's back and Phil stumbled forward, silently following Louise. Louise glanced back at him and frowned. “I thought he was being kept in C77.”

“Yes, he was,” The woman answered in a solemn voice, opening the door and gesturing to the stairs that descended to darkness. She turned on the lights, and it illuminated the concretes walls, making Phil tremble with anticipation. “Level 8 couldn't handle him. He was transferred to C99, but he destroyed three cells on our floor. He is being kept in SR2.”

“SR2?” Louise sounded surprised. “Is he that sharp?”

“Yes.” The woman sighed heavily as they slowly walked down the stairs, their footsteps echoing throughout the narrow space. “He's been calm ever since we told him we caught his bonded partner.”

“Hm,” Louise nodded understandingly.

Phil gaped at everything with shock in his eyes. They slowly reached the bottom of the stairs, and the woman opened another door to a spacious concrete hall. There was a giant lab to his right, and several strange pieces of equipment, books and documents were scattered everywhere. Numerous people with white coats and black uniforms were talking all at once. The woman ignored them and guided them to another metal door, and they walked inside quietly. They sauntered through a tunnel-like dark passageway, and Phil's heartbeat quickened. Hunters were standing lined up in the narrow space, and they quietly ambled to another room. Phil's chest tightened as Dan's smell invaded his nose.

The woman shoved the card into a machine and swiped it twice. The door beeped loudly and clicked open. Phil gaped into the room breathlessly, and his heart immediately plummeted to the floor. A painful lump formed in his throat, and he struggled out of the Hunters' grip, stumbling forward with wide eyes. “Dan.”

The room was filled with even more odd equipment, but there was a glass window in front of him that separated the room from a giant cell. Dan was on the other side of the large glass window. He was in a thick metal cage that was almost as big as Phil's white room, and the cage itself was barricaded with three sets of giant metal bars. The metal bars slightly obstructed his view, but he could still see Dan's pale face. His stomach dropped, and his eyes filled with tears. Dan looked exhausted and weak. There were dark bags under his eyes, and his gaze was hollow. He was sitting on the concrete floor with his head resting against the wall. There were tear tracks on his cheeks and bruises on his body.

Phil's throat constricted, and his mouth went dry. All energy drained from his body and anguish took its place. His breaths were uneven, and he couldn't believe this was actually happening. He had been so incredibly happy just a few days ago. He could still see Dan's bright smile in his mind. Happiness had been just a breath away. He had almost grasped it, but it was ripped out of his hands so suddenly that he was full of regrets. He forced his thoughts to the back of his mind and staggered shakily towards the glass window, placing his palm against the glass in desperation. “Dan,” he murmured in a grief-stricken voice.

“You can see him, but he can't see you,” Louise commented. “The glass is covered with a black film.”

Phil swallowed the painful lump in his throat and stared at Dan shakily, his knees trembling violently. “Okay,” he whispered dejectedly. He stared at Dan without making any sound. His fingers curled against the glass and clenched into fists. He placed his forehead against the glass and inhaled shakily. “F-fuck.”

“Phil?”

Phil blinked and lurched back, staring at Dan with wide, expectant eyes. Dan was frowning at the glass window. He stared at every corner of his cage and sniffed the air. Light returned to his eyes, and he stood up immediately. “Phil,” he murmured in a shaky voice, staring everywhere wildly. “Phil, where are you?”

Phil's heart pounded, and he banged his fists against the glass. “Dan!” he shouted. “I'm–”

The Hunters behind him grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back. Phil struggled to get out. “Fuck. Let go of me. Dammit,” he choked out shakily, “What the fuck is wrong with you all? What did he ever do to you?” he screamed. His voice cracked and turned into a pleading sob. “W-what–what did we do? Fuck.” He lifted his cuffed hands and covered his head in despair, melting to the floor with a sniff. “What did I do to deserve this? All I did was help a wounded winged man. That's all I . . .” He sniffed and bit his quivering bottom lip, staring at the floor shakily.

“Stand up, Phil,” Louise ordered firmly, turning away from him gracefully. “This is your own fault. You're the one who chose to help a terrorist.”

The Hunters grabbed his shoulders and forced him up, shoving him towards the glass window. Louise nodded in approval and said, “Watch.”

Phil swallowed the lump in his throat, and his chest was suddenly numb. He watched with terror in his eyes as a Hunter took the black card from the woman's hands and opened the door leading to Dan's room. Dan was alert almost instantly. His eyes narrowed in suspicion and bitter anger, and his wings sprouted from both sides, glimmering beautifully. The Hunter trudged towards a machine near the metal bars and pulled three levers down. Almost immediately, the metal bars lifted like shutters with a loud, reverberating clang. Dan inched closer to the cage and his wings turned sharp. “Don't come near me,” he warned, his eyes turning red.

Phil's heart sank, but he couldn't stop watching. The Hunter ignored his warning and stepped towards the door of the cage. His hands were clearly shaking as he lifted the card to open the cage. His fingers lightly landed on the machine, and Dan's feathers shot out towards him and zoomed straight towards his forehead, colliding against his helmet and making him stumble back. The Hunter ducked immediately and trembled with fear. He crawled hastily towards the door and hurried back to Louise, panting shakily, “S-sorry, he's way too aggressive.”

Louise nodded. “I know,” she clarified smoothly, “I didn't want you to open the cage. I just wanted to show Phil how dangerous and terrible winged men are. He didn't even hesitate. He was ready to pierce a feather into your forehead and kill you.” She glanced at Phil. “He would be dead without his protective helmet.”

“He didn't hesitate because he's just trying to fucking protect himself,” Phil snapped angrily, heaving with rage. “Dan wasn't trying to kill him! It was self-defence. You put him in a fucking cage. What else is he supposed to do?”

Louise frowned. “You've been brainwashed, Phil. I feel sorry for you. You're making excuses for him.”

Phil clenched his jaw and slammed his head back against the glass window. “Fuck!” he shouted in annoyance.

Louise rolled her eyes and sighed. “We just need a few feathers, and a sample of his blood,” she divulged calmly, “You will help us get it.”

Phil's heart plummeted to the floor, and he looked up in shock. “W-what?”

Louise nodded at the Hunters beside Phil and turned away, heading towards the door. The Hunters forced Phil to follow her, and panic flooded his veins. “Wha–what? What are you doing?” he asked breathlessly with wide eyes. “Where are you taking me?” They dragged Phil towards Dan, and Phil's eyes widened in terror. “W-wait–”

“Prince Daniel,” Louise greeted with a sweet smile.

Dan looked up, and his eyes met Phil's gaze. Relief made his jaw unclench, and he stared at Phil with wide eyes, lowering his wings eventually. “Phil,” he breathed shakily.

Phil's breath stuttered. He had a lot to say. He wanted to talk to Dan and touch Dan and go back home with Dan. He wanted to hold Dan and ask him if he was okay. His chest felt tight and suffocating, and the bars between Dan and him felt giant and insurmountable. His mouth opened, and he wanted to speak, but the Hunters shoved him abruptly to the floor, pinning him there roughly. He struggled but someone grabbed his hair and slammed his cheek against the floor. “W-wait, please–” he pleaded desperately, struggling to look up at Dan.

“We need your full cooperation, _your highness,”_ Louise quipped mockingly. “You care about your partner, don't you?”

Phil heard footsteps, and he stilled with a lump in his throat. He gazed up shakily to find Dan's hands curled around the bars. “Don't–” Dan whispered in a small voice, “Don't hurt him.” He bit his lip shakily. “He didn't do anything.”

Louise nodded with a smile. “Of course,” she responded sweetly, turning to glance at Phil. “Take him away,” she ordered briskly. “Send him back to his room. He has done his job.”

Phil's fingers clenched. “No–Louise,” he pleaded desperately, “Louise, please. Let me talk to him. Louise, please. I'm begging you–” The Hunters dragged him towards the door, and Phil's eyes widened in panic. “Louise!” he yelled, glancing at Dan tearfully. “Fuck!” he screamed, “How the fuck can you believe this is right? Louise!” He heaved. “Godammit! Let go of me. Argh!”

“Phil . . .” Dan whispered earnestly, his fingers clenching around the metal bars as he stared at Phil. “It's okay.” He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. “I'll be fine.”

Phil's stomach dropped. He turned to Louise to see her putting on gloves. He stilled, and it finally hit him. His gaze flicked back to Dan in horror and he shouted, “Dan, don't! Don't let them come near you. I'll be fine. I'm fine. Don't let them–” He was pulled out of the room and shoved against the wall. The door closed, and Phil stared at the glass window to see Louise and the rest of the Hunters pulling out syringes from the table. He stumbled forward and banged his fists against the glass. “Dan!” he shouted desperately. “Dan!”

“He can't hear you,” the woman said in a quiet voice. “It's pointless.”

The Hunters grabbed his arms and pulled him towards the exit, and his chest grew heavy. His eyes filled with tears, and he pressed his hands against his face, letting out a broken sob. “F-fuck,” he sniffed, “W-what the fuck did he do? You have–you have no right to do this. You can't do this to us. We d-didn't do anything.” His lips quivered, and his voice was barely audible. “Why? W-why are you doing this? What are you trying to achieve? _Why?_ ”

The woman glanced at him with pity in her gaze and turned away sorrowfully. “You didn't do anything.” Her voice sounded genuine. “You're not wrong, but _we_ are not wrong either. We've all had our families and friends taken from us. It's just how the world is. Life is unfair, buddy.”

“That's bullshit!” Phil snapped tearfully. “Why don't you let me talk to him? I just want to fucking talk to him. Please. Let me talk to him,” Phil begged desperately.

“Oh, don't worry,” the woman said with a simple shrug. “We will let you talk to him.”

Phil stared at her expectantly. “W-when?”

She smiled. “Once a week.”

“Once–” Phil blinked, and despair was filling his chest. “Once a week?”

“Yes.” She nodded without looking back. “You will be here forever. You have plenty of time to talk to him.”


	45. Despair

Phil had always been fond of solitude. Most days, he was happy to be left alone. He was satisfied with silence, and he usually didn't mind sitting alone in his room with a cup of tea on the table and a pen in his hand. He had never had a problem with being alone, but being alone in the white room was completely different. It was lonely and painful. The white of the walls seemed oddly eerie, and sometimes, he felt like the walls were moving closer. The floor was coming up. The ceiling was falling. The narrow space was suffocating, and the white colour pricked his eyes. Being in the room was unbearable. It was hell itself.

There was nothing to do in the white room. Louise had left some books and a clock for him, but he never felt like touching it or looking at it. His sense of time was warped. Hours dragged on and days blended together. Two weeks felt like two minutes and two decades at the same time. Was it Monday or Saturday? He didn't know. He was all alone in the white room, but someone would bring him food three times a day, and someone in a white coat would visit every evening to check his health. Days went by, but nights were cold and extremely long.

The air always smelled like blood and formalin, and it always made him feel light-headed. It was never completely silent in the white room. There was always someone making some kind of noise, even at night. Light footsteps, thuds, the jingle of keys and the resonating sound of metal consumed the silence. Every once in a while, he would hear muffled screams and wailing noises, and at night, someone's pain-filled groans always made its way into his room. Every small clink echoed, and echoed so loudly that it haunted Phil in his sleep.

In just a mere month, Phil felt like he was losing his mind and going insane. He was allowed to see Dan once a week. Every Friday, Louise would come into his room, and he was allowed to see and talk to Dan for ten minutes. Phil waited for that day. He waited eagerly, and every minute, every second felt like eternity. A part of him, a scary part of him, was slowly becoming used to the white room. It was a terrifying thought. The only thing still keeping him grounded was a tiny flicker of hope that help would come. Maybe not today, or the following day. Maybe not this year, or even next year, but someone would come to help him. He would escape from this hell together with Dan. He was sure of it.

“Open the door.”

Phil jerked back immediately, snapping out of his thoughts and standing up instantly. It was finally Friday, and he had been eagerly waiting for Louise all day, all week. He stumbled forward, and he was glad that his leg was no longer chained. Louise had removed it, and he was extremely grateful for that. His breaths stuttered in excitement, and he couldn't wait to see Dan. Dan seemed to be doing well. He always smiled with relief when he saw Phil, and Phil always checked him thoroughly for injuries. The Hunters were treating Dan well for now, and he was at least thankful for that.

Louise stepped into the room with a blank face and an unreadable gaze. Phil's hands were cuffed promptly, and he was shoved out of the room. Everything was a routine. Hunters would surround him, and they would drag him through the hallway to the lift, and in a few minutes, he would be eagerly padding over to the woman on the counter. Usually, the woman would hand over the keys and cards to Louise, and they would descend the stairs, squeeze through the research lab and slip into the tunnel-like passageway to Dan's cell. That day, something different happened.

The very moment Phil staggered out of the lift, he could immediately tell something was wrong. There was a foul, absolutely disgusting smell in the air. Loud, spine-chilling screams filled the silence and pained groans pierced his ears. Phil's eyes immediately widened and he turned to Louise questioningly. “W-what?” he stammered shakily, “What h-happened?”

Louise smiled. “You're interested? That's pretty rare,” she drawled in a slightly intrigued voice, “Do you want to see?”

Before he could answer, Louise gestured with her hand, and the Hunters holding him shoved him forward. He swallowed nervously and followed her without protest, staring straight ahead anxiously. He wasn't interested. He had just blurted the question without thinking, but it was too late to change his mind. There were large cells on both sides, and the hallway was submerged in eerie darkness. The air was a little humid, and Phil could feel sweat trickling down his spine. “W-where . . .” he trailed off fearfully, staring at the prison cells to his left and right.

Phil's chest grew heavy as he noticed the winged men inside the cells. They were severely injured and some were bleeding, with several bandages wrapped around them. Their wings looked torn and thin. His knees wobbled slightly, and his breaths quickened. He was terrified. “L-louise–” he stuttered, “I don't want to–”

Loud wails and chilling screams pierced the silence. It was closer this time, and Phil's jaws clenched tightly. His hands shook, and he urged himself to calm down. He couldn't afford to panic right now. “Louise, I don't want to see anything. I just–”

“We're here,” she announced cheerfully.

Someone pushed Phil towards the cell, and Phil glanced up absently, stilling in his position instantly. His eyes widened, and his heart slammed into his throat, beating erratically. The smell of chemicals and blood pierced his nostrils, and his stomach lurched violently. He turned away immediately. His knees gave out. He felt the bile rising in his throat, and the saliva rushing in his mouth. He gagged, and he could feel his stomach churn. He panted shakily as tears flooded his eyes. He let out a broken sob, and his body was trembling. It was too much for him to handle. “Fuck,” he hiccuped and coughed, “W-why are you doing this? Why–” He sniffed. “What did they ever do to you?”

The winged man in the cage didn't have wings. He was so thin that his bones were almost visible. He was covered in blood and his wings were burnt on his back. Phil finally realised why the air always smelt like burning skin, and his throat felt choked. The sight was so horrible that he couldn't breathe. He clutched his nose and sobbed. “P-please. Please just take me back to my room. I don't–” he croaked desperately, turning away.

Louise frowned and glanced away. “You're overreacting,” she muttered in disapproval, waving her hand absently. The Hunters grabbed his arms and they pulled him towards the door. Phil's mind was messy, afraid and full of dreadful thoughts. His hands and legs were shaking, and he was slowly realising the true seriousness of the situation. This was all real and happening right _now_. Dan was in danger, and the same thing could happen to Dan. They probably wouldn't hesitate to harm Dan, and it frightened him. He was helpless and afraid, and he didn't know how to escape this terrible fate.

Phil's gaze remained fixated on the concrete floor as they pushed and pulled him, shoving him into Dan's white room. His chest was tight with emotions as he looked up. Louise pulled the levers and the metal bars lifted. They had removed the black film from the glass window, and Dan's unconscious face came into view. His heart lodged in his throat in panic. He rushed forward and stumbled to the floor, slipping his hand through the last remaining set of metal bars and holding Dan's hand tightly. His eyes widened immediately, and his lips quivered. “Why is he . . .” His neck felt choked.

Dan was lying unconscious on the floor in his cage. His hands were extremely cold, and there were several black feathers littered everywhere on the floor. His wings looked oddly bent and Phil's stomach lurched violently. “What did you do to him?!” he screamed, squeezing Dan's hand tightly. “Dan,” he called desperately, brushing Dan's hair back and gaping at his pale face in shock. “Dan!” Dan didn't move, and Phil's panic rose. He turned and grabbed the collar of a man in a white coat near him, slamming him against the nearest wall. “What did you do to him, you asshole? What the fuck did you do to him?” he yelled in fury, shaking violently.

“Let him go,” Louise commanded briskly. “We just wanted a few feathers.” She peered at Dan's prone body. “Winged men pluck their unwanted feathers almost every day, and they shed feathers all the time, but when someone else removes their feathers, it's excruciatingly painful for them. He just passed out from the pain. That's all. He will be alright.”

The Hunters behind him hauled him away from the man in the white coat and threw him to the floor. His head lightly knocked back against the metal bars, and his eyes filled with tears. He looked up and glared at Louise tearfully. Louise turned and walked away from him, closing the door behind him. She stared at him through the glass window and said, “You have ten minutes, Phil.”

Phil's stomach dropped, and he turned to Dan, suppressing his rage and burying his infuriated feelings deep inside him. He didn't have time to be angry and stubborn. Every minute, every second was precious. He wouldn't get to see Dan's face for the whole week after this. Every day was so agonizingly slow, and every minute stretched for eternity, but when he was with Dan, ten minutes went by in the blink of an eye. He felt like he had been waiting for a long time to see Dan's face.

He gently grabbed Dan's hand and shuffled closer to the cage, staring down at Dan's bruised body with tears in his eyes. There was a deep gash and dried blood on Dan's cheek, and Phil's chest tightened with guilt when he noticed it. He brushed Dan's face with light fingertips, gently moving his curly hair out of his pale face. “I'm sorry, Dan,” he murmured in a shaky, remorseful voice, “I'm sorry.” A sinking, hollow feeling grabbed hold of his heart, and he felt a burning sensation deep in his gut. He was ashamed and afraid. He felt pathetic and powerless. He was nothing. He was a complete nobody who couldn't do anything alone. If it was PJ, he would've escaped a long time ago, but Phil wasn't that brave or rational.

Phil swallowed the painful, burning lump that was blocking his throat and placed his trembling hand on Dan's wounded wings, stroking the feathers shakily. “It's okay,” he whispered tearfully, “I'm sorry.” He squeezed Dan's cold hands and bit his bottom lip tightly, closing his eyes and taking a deep, steadying breath. “It'll be okay.” He nodded to himself in determination. “I'm with you. I–I will do something. We will get out of here. I–I know it.” He wiped his face on his shoulder and nodded shakily. “Someone will come to help. Maybe PJ–” He remembered his fight with PJ and faltered a little. 

“Five more minutes!” Louise announced loudly.

Phil flinched and swallowed. His hold on Dan's hand loosened and he stared at Dan quietly for several seconds. “It's okay, Dan,” he whispered, and he knew he was the one who needed that reassurance. “It's okay. My friends–I trust them. It's okay. PJ will do something. We–we will be okay. Hold on for just a little bit longer, okay?” He sniffed. “It will be okay.” His words sounded empty, but they were coated with hope. He was exhausted and terrified, but he could still see the light at the end of the tunnel. He needed that hope or he would break. He _had to_ believe that help would come or else he would fall apart. He had never believed in God, but he was praying every day in desperation.

Phil stared at Dan sorrowfully for a long time, and Louise soon announced that it was time to head back. He reluctantly let go of Dan's hand with a heavy heart and tears at the corner of his eyes. Emptiness filled his stomach, and he looked at Dan's sleeping face for as long as he could. He clung to the glass window desperately until the Hunters dragged him away. He always came to Dan's room with eager eyes, but he was always quiet when it was time to leave. After seeing Dan, an comfortable, nagging ache would claw at Phil's chest, and he would remain quiet on the way back.

The Hunters guided him back to his floor, and Phil quietly stepped out of the lift and walked towards his room. His chest was empty, and all he wanted was to return to his stupid room and go to sleep. His eyes lifted from the floor blankly, and he immediately saw someone familiar walk by him. He stopped in shock and blinked, lurching forward shakily and grasping the collar of his uniform with his cuffed hands. “James!” he blurted in an earnest voice, staring at him with hope.

James was not his friend. James was not even an acquaintance. Phil barely knew anything about him. In fact, he had only met him a few times. He had talked to him maybe two times, and it was mostly about work or something irrelevant. He didn't know much about James, but he knew James worked with PJ. He knew James was familiar with PJ and Anthony. Phil's anguish and desperation made him cling on to that small connection. His hands tightened, and his mind went blank.

James blinked down at him in confusion, but recognition slowly bloomed in his gaze. “Phil Lester?”

“Yes,” Phil nodded with relief, taking a deep breath. “I–” The Hunter behind him grabbed his shoulder, and Phil swallowed fearfully. “L-let me talk–”

Louise's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Do you know–”

James gave him a worried glance and looked up at Louise. “Can I talk to him?” he asked in a meek voice. “I know him.”

Louise sighed heavily and nodded. “Yes, but make it quick,” she drawled, “I'm busy.” She peered down at the watch on her wrist. “Look, I've been here for two days. My kids are probably distraught. I have to take care of the winged man in C102 before I can leave. I'll give you five minutes.”

Phil stared at Louise, bitterly remembering the many many times Louise had asked him to watch her kids. There had been times when Louise had disappeared for days at a time, and he was kind enough to take care of her kids for her. She always apologised profusely and told him there had been an emergency at the hospital. He never questioned it. Louise was a friend, and he never once refused her requests. She tricked him and betrayed him spectacularly. She was never a mere nurse. A mere nurse would never vanish for several days. She was here. She was hurting and imprisoning winged men. She chose to do _this_ instead of taking care of her children. She lied to his face with no remorse whatsoever.

James nodded with pursed lips and turned to Phil. “I was transferred here last week,” he disclosed and gave Phil a sympathetic smile. “I didn't know they were keeping you here.”

“Oh.” Phil bit his lip and inhaled with relief. “I–I, um, can I ask something? Is PJ okay? Anthony? Is Anthony okay? Where are they? What about Luke? Do you know anything? Anything?” His eyes were wide with hope, and he stared at James expectantly. “Please. Anything will do. Are they okay? Where are they? Are they alright?”

James shook his head sadly. “I'm sorry. I don't go to the main office anymore,” he responded apologetically, and he sounded genuine. “I took a week off, and I was transferred here immediately.”

Phil bit his bottom lip tightly moved back miserably. “Oh.” He gazed up optimistically. “You–you didn't see them at all?”

James nodded remorsefully. “I usually see them at night, but I don't have patrolling duties anymore so I haven't seen them.” His brows furrowed pensively, and he blinked. “Oh, yeah. I did hear from Ethan that they were called to the main office two weeks ago.”

“M-main office?”

James frowned contemplatively. “I think they got suspended for a week for not noticing a winged man's presence in their own building.”

Phil's eyes widened regretfully. “S-suspended?”

“Yes.” James nodded. “That was a week ago though. I'm sure they are fine now.”

Phil swallowed and relief flooded his chest. “Oh.”

“I think they are working at the main office. I don't think they have patrolling duties,” James told him thoughtfully, “I don't know anything about Luke. Sorry. I don't even know who he is.”

Phil bit his lip. “Anthony and PJ . . . they are okay, right? They weren't . . . weren't arrested or anything?”

James frowned. “Why would they be arrested?” he asked, looking genuinely confused. “I think they were only questioned and suspended temporarily.”

Phil let out a breath of relief. “Okay. T-thank–”

“Alright. That's it. Time's up,” Louise announced, clapping her hands together. “Let's go.”

The Hunters grabbed Phil and pulled him back, and Phil stared at James sorrowfully. James gave him a pity-filled look and waved, turning and walking away quietly. Phil was yanked forcefully back to his room. Louise didn't say anything. She didn't even look at him as she closed the metal door and locked it. The sound of footsteps faded, and Phil was completely alone once again. He stared at the door for a long time and eventually crawled back to his bed. He curled into a ball on the bed and emptily awaited the next Friday.


End file.
